


The Ocean at Night

by bluesweatshirt



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Post-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25511404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesweatshirt/pseuds/bluesweatshirt
Summary: “There is an ocean inside of everybody,” Sidney’s mother had once told him.This started off as a character study, but turned into a 25k fix-it fic post Season 1.
Relationships: Charlotte Heywood/Sidney Parker
Comments: 50
Kudos: 208





	The Ocean at Night

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes:
> 
> 1\. I have no clue where Sanditon is supposed to be geographically in England lol. So please just ignore geographic inconsistencies. I guess I was imagining it somewhere on the west or south coast?  
> 2\. I also had a hard time guessing how long certain carriage/horse/boat rides would take, so just ignore those details if they bother you. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! I loved the TV show and just wanted to fix everything up when I finished watching. I don't know how active this fandom is, but it made me feel good to write this. :)

***

“There is an ocean inside of everybody,” Sidney’s mother had once told him. 

Sidney had been seven or eight at the time, and he’d been furious with his brother Arthur. “He made us lose the race, Mother!” He’d burst into the parlor where his mother was working on her embroidery, his cheeks hot with anger. “He was barely trying! I don’t understand why he doesn’t care about running fast, or rowing fast, or swimming fast.”

Sidney’s mother had laughed, a warm, soothing sound. “Your brother is a different person from you, Sidney. He cares about some things that you do not care about, just as you care about some things that he is uninterested in. Don’t you suppose you’d be bored if he was the same person as you?”

Sidney scuffed the edge of the rug with his muddy shoe glumly. “No, I wouldn’t be bored at all. Because if Arthur was like me, we would have won the relay race.”

He expected to be scolded for his rude attitude or his dirty clothing, but his mother surprised him by putting down her embroidery and patting the spot next to her on the divan. 

She placed an arm around him and let him scoot close to her side. He was getting a bit too old for this type of coddling - he’d be following Tom to boarding school soon, after all - but he loved the smell of his mother’s perfume and he felt pleasantly drowsy in the afternoon heat. 

“You will have to learn soon, Sidney, that everyone has a different nature, and that is what makes life interesting. There is an ocean inside of everybody, you see. We can only glimpse what is on the surface until we learn to look deeper.”

“I don’t understand,” Sidney yawned. He found that he was quite comfortable. 

“You will someday,” his mother assured him. She picked up her embroidery again and Sidney began to doze off, tucked safely under her arm. 

It made sense that his mother had an ocean inside of her. She was beautiful and calm and gentle, just like the warm sands and sparkling waves of the Sanditon beaches in summer. 

Even at that age, Sidney knew that he did not have a sunny Sanditon beach inside of him.

***

Sidney might have forgotten his mother’s words about oceans if it weren’t for the fact that she died just three months after that conversation, giving birth to a stillborn child. 

Things changed after that. His sister Diana grew quiet and anxious, always worrying about somebody else getting sick and dying. Sidney began to think his mother’s analogy rather apt. As his sister became more and more cautious, he imagined Diana as a grey and cloudy little inlet, choppy with nervous waves. 

His brothers, Tom and Arthur, swung the opposite way. Their personalities grew larger, brighter, brasher. They reminded Sidney of the strong, rolling waves of the beaches at Brighton that he visited on a class trip. Too large to swim in, tripping over themselves in an attempt to keep moving and growing. 

And their father? He turned gray and pale like Diana, but instead of becoming a choppy little sea, he dried up completely, dying quietly and uneventfully on Sidney’s eleventh birthday. 

***

Their second engagement, Mrs. Campion wanted a fall wedding. 

“I have wanted this for so long,” she sighed happily as she walked him to the stables near her opulent London home. A groom waited for them with Sidney’s horse. “I don’t want to wait any longer, Sidney.”

With her coiffed hair and rich maroon dress, she made the perfect picture of a sophisticated woman. And yet, there was something in her voice. A hint of fear, perhaps. 

“And after you tell your family, you must come back to London straightaway while we plan the wedding!” She continued on brightly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes all the way. 

He did not miss the way her gaze quickly flickered down the road, in the direction of Sanditon, where he would be traveling to tell his family – to tell _Charlotte,_ god – the news of what he had done, what he had committed himself to, in order to save his brother’s resort from ruin.

He knew that Eliza was thinking of Charlotte, too. 

“I think a spring wedding would be best, Eliza,” he heard himself say mildly. “I have many business affairs I must set in order before we can wed,” he justified vaguely.

Her face fell slightly, but she kept her tone cheery. “You’re right, of course! Spring weddings are the most fashionable, after all.”

As he cantered down the road towards Sanditon, he cursed his own foolishness. Why did he torment himself by prolonging this? It would be better if he and Eliza wed tomorrow, so that the small part of him that still hoped would be choked out forever. 

***

When his farewell with Charlotte was all done and over with, Sidney numbly rode to Trafalgar House. 

“Oh, Sidney!” Mary exclaimed sympathetically when he stepped into the drawing room. Although she and Sidney had never discussed his changing relationship with Charlotte, Mary knew him better than almost anyone else. She had been something of a second mother and an older sister to him over the past twelve years of her marriage to Tom. 

“I can’t bear to see you like this,” Mary said, shaking her head at his pale, drawn expression. “And poor Charlotte–”

Sidney held up a hand to stop her, unable to hear Charlotte’s name. He’d seen her face when she’d stepped back inside her carriage and left for her home after he’d bid her farewell. Her chin had been held high and her back had been straight, but her jaw had been clenched and her eyes had looked wet. 

How he longed to jump back on his horse and gallop back in the direction of her carriage, to jump onto the driver’s seat and take over the reins as he had done when he’d rescued Georgiana. To bring the carriage to a halt, fling open the door and take Charlotte into his arms. To breathe in the scent of her hair and dry her tears–

“Please, Mary.” He wearily scrubbed a hand over his face. “What’s done is done. I’ve agreed to marry Eliza, and I won’t go back on my word.”

“Surely Tom would understand if you spoke to him. The resort is not as important as your happiness, Sidney.”

Sidney barely resisted the urge to slam his fist down on the table. 

“Stop, Mary,” he said tightly. “I would not see Tom in the debtor's prison and the children’s futures insecure. And you know just as well as I do that the lives of all the shopkeepers, tradesmen and Sanditon investors will be ruined unless we get the resort back up and running again. My happiness is not more important than the wellbeing of hundreds of lives.”

He pivoted sharply and left the room after that. 

***

Sidney did not think that there was an ocean inside of him at all until he took his first voyage to Antigua. It was only when he crossed the Atlantic Ocean that he understood what kind of water he was. He had always felt things a little too strongly, and as he stared at the dark, isolated, ever-changing seas of the north Atlantic, he felt that he finally understood a piece of himself. 

When the ship pitched and heaved during a gale as they made their crossing, Sidney remained above deck far longer than the other passengers, staring at the swirling eddies of water and swelling waves with a singular focus. 

“Are ye mad? Get below deck!” A wizened sailor yelled at him as a wave broke and crashed on the deck.

Sidney obeyed, but he walked slowly and calmly the entire way there, feeling quite at home as the thunder cracked overhead. 

***

In the months that followed Charlotte’s departure from Sanditon, Sidney hated himself. 

It was akin to the time that Eliza had jilted him, but worse. 

As foolish, idealistic twenty-year-olds, he and Eliza had enjoyed dancing and sneaking kisses from one another. They had dreamed about how rich Sidney would grow from his investments in Antigua. They had mocked the pompous and stuffy London socialites who were scandalized by “the atrocious behavior of the youth these days.” During their courtship, he had bought her ribbons for her hat, in just the shade of purple she liked best. 

But that had been the extent and depth of their relationship. He hadn’t been able to see it until he had a distance of several years from the whole affair, but now he realized that for as heartsick as he had been back then, he had been grieving for a person he barely knew. 

He had never discussed Heraclitus with Eliza. They’d never exchanged cross words or argued with each other. They had never grown or changed from their time spent with one another. 

This time was worse. So much worse. 

Reminders of Charlotte were everywhere. He spent several weeks in London, traveling around and trying to appease Tom’s debtors with the news of his engagement to Eliza Campion. Even in London, where he knew he would never see her, his heart sometimes jolted in his chest when he caught a flash of dark curls or blue shoes in the busy streets. 

He thought of the night he’d found Charlotte trying to fight off a man in the alleyway in London, how he wished he could go back and find that man and dismember him for daring to touch her against her will. He remembered how he’d told her to wait outside the inn when they were searching for Georgiana, how she’d disregarded his orders and appeared at his elbow, just as she always seemed to do that summer. 

Sanditon was worse. He felt like a caged animal, prowling in between the two places. When he was in London, he felt stifled and trapped, like he wanted to stand up and start screaming in the middle of every silly dinner party Eliza roped him into attending. 

Sanditon was better during the day. When it was light outside, it was easier to pretend that Charlotte was close by. He could overlook her empty seat at the table by imagining that she was just out for the day, helping Tom oversee the process of clearing the rubble from the fire, or examining tidal pools on the beach, or playing with the Parker children. He could pretend that she might appear in the study at the end of the day when he was sitting and reading, that she might come sit by him and talk with him, the light of the fire playing across her bright, dark eyes. 

But at night, he could not sleep, knowing that Charlotte’s bed at the Trafalgar House was empty, knowing that there was no real chance he’d catch a glimpse of her the next day. He took to walking around late at night, meandering up and down the beaches and cliffs until he was too exhausted to stay awake any longer. 

***

Sidney thought of his mother’s words about human nature when he arrived in Antigua and learned how he had _really_ been making his money. 

She would have been horribly disappointed to know that her son had profited off of slave labor. 

_There is an ocean inside of_ ** _everybody,_** his mother had said. Not _there is an ocean inside of every free person._

He abandoned his sugar ventures, which did not endear him to his fellow Englishmen in Antigua. He was threatened and shunned by polite society. With no place to stay, he rather inconveniently caught scarlet fever. 

He walked to the beach late one night, and as the sun rose and revealed the shockingly blue water of the Caribbean, he was reminded of Eliza. He fell to his knees and wept as he observed the paradise around him, mourning the loss of his hopes and dreams. 

What he didn’t notice at the time was that the water, while beautiful, was shallow and tepid. 

It was at this point that a man named Augustus Lambe found him lying on the beach, sunburned and shivering and delirious with fever, and brought him to his estate to nurse him back to health. 

***

“What is wrong with you?” Georgiana asked him abruptly as they ate dinner one cool evening in October. “Why are you always coming here and....spending time with me? And why are you asking questions about my day, and trying to smile at me?”

She looked half-disgusted and half-confused. Sidney found himself wanting to laugh. While he’d taken on her guardianship half-heartedly, he’d come to appreciate Georgiana’s strong, direct personality over time. He supposed that the ocean inside of her looked quite similar to his own ocean. That was probably why they butted heads so frequently.

“What, can’t a guardian spend time with his ward?” He asked, taking a sip of his brandy. 

“You never have before,” Georgiana returned. 

“You are correct,” he admitted, swallowing his pride. “I was wrong to behave that way, and I am doing my best to rectify it.”

Georgiana blinked at him, looking amazed. “Charlotte really got to you.”

Sidney almost choked on his potatoes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Ms. Heywood does not have anything to do–”

Georgiana ignored him, looking thoughtful. “This is interesting,” she remarked. “I thought you were just playing with her because she is young and pretty.”

“You think so poorly of me?”

Georgiana shrugged. It was quite unladylike and would have earned her a sharp rebuke from Mrs. Griffiths. 

“I suppose you are right to think ill of me,” Sidney said. “I have not given you much cause to like or trust me.”

“No, you haven’t.” She held Sidney’s gaze fearlessly, like she was searching for something on his face. 

He knew that she still had not fully forgiven him from keeping her apart from Otis, but he didn’t think they were quite ready to discuss that. “I would not play with Ms. Heywood’s emotions,” he said firmly. 

“Hmm,” Georgiana murmured. She broke eye contact with him, perhaps finding whatever she was looking for in his expression. 

“I had a letter from Charlotte today,” Georgiana continued casually, as though nothing had transpired. “I didn’t have the chance to look at it yet. I’d like to read it out loud, if you don’t mind. It helps me concentrate.”

She didn’t give him a chance to reply, pulling the letter from her pocket and unfolding it. He noticed that the seal had already been broken, and he felt a flash of gratitude towards his ward.

“ _Dear Georgiana_ ,” she read confidently. “ _I miss you terribly and hope all is well in Sanditon. Harvest is just beginning here in Willingden, and it is one of my favorite times of year. The wheat has grown so strong and tall this year that we lost my brother Peter, who is five years old, in one of the fields yesterday! He wandered into the wheat and it completely concealed him. It wasn’t until we saw a patch of the field rustling that we were able to track him down. Mother was in hysterics, but the rest of us found it rather humorous…_ ”

Sidney leaned back in his chair, emotions swirling in his chest. That night, when he slept, he imagined himself standing at the edge of a golden field of wheat, a girl with dark hair running towards him. 

***

“Oh, please, Uncle Sidney! Can’t you stay for Christmas?” Jenny begged him. 

“Yes, Uncle Sidney! Please!” Alicia chimed in, tugging on the hem of his jacket. 

“Sorry, girls,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m expected in London. But I left gifts for you all under the tree. And I’ll be back for the new year!” He tried to inject some holiday cheer into his voice. 

Judging by their small faces, he failed. 

“Oh, Uncle Sidney,” Alicia burst out, looking teary. “Please don’t go! You’re going to get married and go away to London forever!”

“Nonsense,” he said, scooping both of them up. It was a challenge to hold them both on his lap. He couldn’t believe how big they were getting. “I’m going to marry Mrs. Campion, but I shall still visit you all the time. In fact, I expect you’ll get sick of seeing me so often!”

“I don’t like Mrs. Campion,” Jenny said with the honesty of a five-year-old.

“Jenny!” Alicia hissed. “That’s not polite.”

Sidney forced a smile onto his face. “That’s alright, Alicia. Jenny doesn’t know Mrs. Campion very well. I’m sure you’ll like her better when you have spent more time with her.”

Jenny crossed her arms over her chest. “I miss Charlotte,” she declared, innocently twisting the knife that seemed to have permanently lodged itself in Sidney’s chest since the summer. 

“Jenny!” Alicia hissed again. “Mummy said not to talk about Charlotte with Uncle Sidney.”

“Oh,” Jenny said contritely, looking confused. “Sorry, Uncle Sidney.”

“That’s alright, Jenny,” Sidney said, keeping his voice light. “You girls run off and play, now. I saw plenty of gifts under the tree to investigate.”

They eagerly hopped off his lap and ran to examine the impressive pile of parcels that had been accumulating in Trafalgar House. 

Sidney rubbed his chin. He wasn’t scheduled to leave for London until Christmas Eve tomorrow, but perhaps he would depart now. 

He had never spent a Christmas with Charlotte, but the holiday was painful nonetheless. Had he not gotten engaged to Mrs. Campion, they might have been married by now, and it would have been their first Christmas together. 

_Married._ It was both horrible and amazing to think of being married to Charlotte. Horrible, of course, because it would never happen. Amazing, because the thought of Charlotte as his wife - becoming Charlotte Parker, rather than Charlotte Heywood – made his traitorous heart beat faster inside of his chest. He imagined them dancing together at a holiday ball in London. He would be able to enjoy dancing with her much more if he knew that he didn’t have to stop touching her when the music ended, if he could look forward to bringing her home that night and helping her unlace her stays. If he could press gentle kisses down her back and make love to her in the darkness as snow fell outside. 

He shook himself out of his thoughts, standing and marching briskly to the stables to leave for London. 

***

He was just about to leave the bookstore when he spotted it. 

He wasn’t sure why he had come into this dingy little shop in the first place to look for a Christmas gift for Eliza. She didn’t like to read much, anyway. He’d probably have to stop by the jeweler’s next and purchase a pair of earrings or a necklace. 

A dusty, slightly worn copy of Mary Wollstonecraft’s _A Vindication of the Rights of Woman_ sat on a shelf in the back corner of the shop. 

He smiled as he thought of Charlotte’s passionate anti-slavery arguments. He wondered if she’d ever had a chance to read Wollstonecraft’s _Vindication._ She had mentioned to him that there was a criminal shortage of books in rural Willingden. He would love to hear her thoughts on women’s equality. He could picture how passionate she would become as she discussed it with him; how her eyes would light up as they always did when she was sharing something she believed in. 

Then again, it would be foolish for him to buy Charlotte a Christmas gift. He owed it to her to leave her in peace, after all he’d put her though. 

He purchased the book and shoved it into the bottom of his bag before he could think too much about it. He had to get to the jeweler’s before it closed. 

***

He tried to evade Lady Susan at the Christmas Eve ball they attended, but she cornered him on a balcony when he slipped away from Eliza for a smoke. 

“Mr. Parker,” she greeted him regally. The tone of her voice was polite, but it was clear that she was displeased with him. 

“Lady Susan,” he replied courteously. She was a refined and genteel sea with quiet rip currents and tides lurking under the surface. 

“This is not where I hoped I’d be spending Christmas this year,” she remarked casually. “I’d rather hoped to travel to the south of France, but I hear the sea passage has been tremendously stormy lately.” 

“Yes,” he said, not sure what else to offer. 

“I daresay you have the same feeling about your location this holiday,” she said pointedly. 

“Indeed,” Sidney commented neutrally. He recalled that Lady Susan had the ability to ruin Sanditon’s reputation with a single word. If she said anything negative about the Parker family in society, Tom’s dreams would be over. 

Even after all Sidney had sacrificed to keep Sanditon afloat, it seemed that danger was never far away. 

“What do you hear from Ms. Heywood, Mr. Parker?” Lady Susan asked, dropping her pretense. 

“Nothing, Lady Susan,” he answered honestly. “I felt it best to give her space after what I have done to her.”

“That seems rather selfish.” Lady Susan raised an eyebrow. “You refuse to marry her, and now you refuse to be her friend?”

“I do not believe she would want me as a friend,” Sidney admitted. 

“Then perhaps you do not really understand her after all,” Lady Susan rejoined primly. “Good evening, Mr. Parker.”

She floated away smartly. 

***

Sidney couldn’t bear London anymore after his conversation with Lady Susan. 

He told Eliza that he had a headache and slipped away to his hotel before she had a chance to protest. He packed his belongings, left his Christmas gift and a note to Eliza to say that he had some urgent business to attend to in Sanditon regarding Tom’s debts, and fled. It was a flimsy excuse, and she would undoubtedly be angry with him for missing Christmas, but he could not find it in himself to care.

It was a bright, frigid night, and the cold air felt good against his cheeks as he lost himself in the long ride home. 

He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but Lady Susan was right. He was the one who was running away from Charlotte. Charlotte had always been good at facing her problems and admitting when she was wrong. Sidney was the one who ran, who hid his feelings with barbed words, fights, and alcohol, who fled to Antigua or to London to escape when things were hard.

He was the one who was afraid of being friends with Charlotte.

He thought of how much she had changed his life in the months he had known her. How his entire perspective had shifted when she forced him to confront his flaws and shortcomings. He owed it to her to keep striving to be a better person, he resolved. Even if he could only do so as her friend and not her husband. 

Maybe he would start by writing her a letter on Boxing Day. 

Furthermore, if he wanted to keep improving himself, he supposed that he owed it to his family to stop moping around and acting miserable. The children practically tiptoed around him, unsure of why Uncle Sidney wasn’t as fun and playful as he used to be. He’d barely said anything to Tom and Mary for months. He was the one who had made the decision to marry Eliza, and he needed to stop punishing the people around him for it. 

***

It was nearly 2 in the morning when Sidney arrived at Trafalgar House. He’d started out his ride full of frenetic energy and racing thoughts, but he’d grown more and more tired during the last hour of the trip. Maybe he’d actually get some sleep tonight for once. 

He pushed the back door open, surprised when he saw the light of a candle in the study. Perhaps Tom or Mary had stayed up late to wrap gifts for the children, but it was rare for either of them to be awake past 11. 

“Hello?” He called softly. “Is that you, Tom?”

He heard a slight gasp from the other room. 

Even before he took the final step into the doorway of the room, he knew whose gasp that had been. For a second, his foot hovered in the air. He wasn’t sure if he should put it down and take the final step, or if he should turn around and leave immediately. 

In the end, he was like a moth drawn to flame, unable to resist the urge to see her again.

“Ms. Heywood?” He asked, stepping into the study. 

There she was. She had settled herself on the couch with a book and a cup of tea, and he hungrily drank in her appearance. She wore a white nightgown, which he took care not to think about too much. A warm, deep red shawl was draped over her shoulders. She normally wore pinks and blues and whites during the summer, and the rich shade of red suited her. 

Then again, in his eyes, a burlap sack would suit her. 

“Mr. Parker,” Charlotte said. For a second her facial expression looked torn between sorrow, worry, and happiness, but she settled on a small smile. 

“I am sorry if my presence causes you any discomfort, Ms. Heywood,” Sidney said quickly. “I did not know you would be spending Christmas at Trafalgar House. I can return to London–”

“No, no,” Charlotte broke in hastily. “Of course I am happy to see you here, Mr. Parker! I believe Mary and Tom, er, may not have wanted to mention it to you, since you were planning to spend the holiday in London,” she explained awkwardly. 

“Ah, yes,” Sidney said uncomfortably. “I decided at the last minute to return to Sanditon.” He gestured to the couch across from her. “May I?”

“Oh, of course!” Charlotte exclaimed, her cheeks going pink. “How rude of me. Please sit.”

“Not at all,” Sidney murmured, taking a seat. He wanted to reach out and brush his fingers against the warm skin of her face. 

He tucked his cold hands into his jacket instead. “I decided to return for Mary and Tom and the children’s sake. I have been spending too much time away from Trafalgar House recently, and I confess that I...have not been quite myself when I have been here these past few months.”

Charlotte nodded understandingly. “It has been the same for me. Mary has been writing me and asking me to come visit for months but I couldn’t quite get up the courage to accept until now.”

He was amazed at her easy, friendly tone. 

“You are not angry with me?” He blurted out before he could stop himself. This was one of the major reasons he had been avoiding Charlotte. Part of him was convinced that she must hate him and revile him after what he had put her through. 

Charlotte smiled, but she looked a bit pained. “I confess that I _have_ been angry with you these past few months. In fact, I think I have been every single emotion ever these past few months - angry, worried, sad, confused, and more.” 

She took a deep breath. “But I understand why you did what you did. I love Sanditon too, and I want Tom and Mary and the town to be in good standing. So while I _have_ been angry with you, I am not angry with you currently.” She finished with a much more genuine-looking smile. 

“Charlotte,” he said softly. “That is far more than I deserve from you.”

Her smile wobbled a little bit at his accidental use of her first name. 

“You and I will always be good friends, Mr. Parker,” Charlotte returned in a whisper. By the candlelight, he could see hundreds of different colors in her dark hair – ambers and reds and golds and blacks. For a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the entire world. 

“I should be getting to bed,” Charlotte broke the quiet, quickly standing and wrapping her shawl tightly around her shoulders. “Good night,” she said quietly, disappearing into the darkness of the hall. 

***

The entire Parker family was invited to Lady Denham’s house Christmas evening for dinner. They made a merry party as they walked to her manor. A light snow had fallen the past few days, and the Parker children, who had been firmly instructed by Mary to keep their nice clothes clean and tidy, continued to “accidentally” fall into the snow where they rolled around a bit, made snowballs, and surreptitiously threw them at everyone besides their mother while the group walked. 

Charlotte had caught a sizable snowball on the back of her head from Henry, and Sidney admired the brightness of her laughter as they filed into the hall. 

Tom and Mary took Henry and James to get washed up for supper while Charlotte and Sidney remained in the front entrance, helping Jenny and Alicia with their winter cloaks. 

“Run along and wash up, girls,” Charlotte instructed, handing the pile of cloaks and jackets off to Lady Denham’s butler. 

Charlotte and Sidney were left alone for a moment then. “I don’t suppose Lady Denham will admire my current hair adornment,” Charlotte laughed, looking slightly self-conscious as she felt around the back of her hair and attempted to dislodge the clumps of snow that had settled there. 

“Let me,” Sidney heard himself say. Swallowing thickly, he reached out and gently brushed the snow from her hair. She was wearing her hair up, and it took him a moment to carefully remove all of the snow from the complicated arrangement. Although he had kissed her and held her over the summer, he had never felt her hair before. It was soft and thick, just as he’d imagined. She smelled of the cold and slightly of the honeysuckle soap that Mary preferred to keep at Trafalgar House. 

This was highly improper behavior for an engaged man, but he justified it by telling himself that he would have done the same thing for Mary if she needed him too. 

Of course, he didn’t want to embrace his sister-in-law from behind and kiss her neck. 

He exhaled, willing himself back under control. His breath hit the back of Charlotte’s neck and she shivered slightly, breaking away from him with pink cheeks. 

“Thank you, Mr. Parker,” she announced abruptly. “I should go wash up.” She scurried away quickly. 

****

Lady Babington, formerly Esther Denham, had undergone quite a change in the time that Sidney had known her. 

It was difficult to conceive of. She was still hard-faced, haughty, and so blunt that it was rude. But at the same time, there was something shy and sweet and blooming about her in the way that she smiled at her husband when she thought he wasn’t looking, or attended to her elderly aunt.

It was almost as though a scared young girl was peeking out from behind the skirts of a jaded older woman.

Sidney was happy that his friend Babington was so happy, but he was pleased for Esther too. He did not pretend to fully understand what had transpired between her and her brother, but he recognized the cold, brave front she had been putting on for the world. He had employed the same technique after losing Eliza the first time. 

Now they had both met people who had helped them thaw. And if Sidney could not have a happy ending to his story, he was glad Esther received one to hers. 

Perhaps she recognized something of a kindred spirit in him too, because she sought him out during the Christmas party, as they all enjoyed a drink while waiting for dinner to be served. 

“Enjoying the view?” She asked, one eyebrow raised. Ever since Arthur and Diana had arrived, escorting Georgiana with them, Charlotte and Georgiana had been giggling and whispering in the corner of the room, excited to be reunited. 

Sidney dragged his gaze away from Charlotte’s profile, which he had been admiring through stolen glances for a quarter of an hour. 

“I suppose it’s better than watching your brother fawn over my aunt,” Esther smirked, hitting the nail on the head, as usual. Tom’s creditors had been assuaged by the announcement of Sidney’s engagement to the wealthiest widow in the country. Most of them had reluctantly agreed that they would not demand payment on the loans until Sidney’s marriage to Eliza in April. However, Tom was still bending over backwards to win back Lady Denham’s support. 

He ignored her knowing comment. “I hear congratulations are in order, Lady Babington,” he said. 

Esther’s hands automatically came to rest briefly on her stomach, which was just beginning to show a bump where new life was growing. 

“Thank you, Mr. Parker,” she said, smiling slightly, almost as though she could not help it. 

“It’s nice to see you and Babington so happy together,” he commented lightly. 

“I pushed Babington away for a long time,” Esther said. “It felt too good to be true.”

Unsure of why she was telling him these personal details, he made a thoughtful humming noise. 

“It is the most frightening thing I have ever done, trusting Babs. But it is also the most worthwhile, Mr. Parker.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but she had evidently conveyed whatever cryptic message it was that she wanted to deliver to him. “Good day,” she declared with a sharp nod, walking away. 

Sidney tracked her as she returned to her husband’s side. Babington placed a gentle hand on her lower back, and she leaned towards him slightly, like a flower aiming to receive the most sunlight possible. 

Esther Babington, he decided, was an ocean that had been frozen over during a frigid winter, and was just beginning to melt. The ice was cracking, and waves were beginning to lap at the shore, declaring something that sounded a lot like _I’m here,_ and _I’m alive._

***

The following day was Boxing Day, and the Parkers all drifted downstairs in comfortable clothes and dressing gowns. The children played eagerly with their new toys, while the adults sipped tea and read or talked quietly. 

Eventually both Charlotte and Sidney got pulled into the children’s play. Charlotte was enacting a ball with Alicia and Jenny’s dolls, while Sidney helped Henry and little James line up their toy soldiers. 

All of a sudden, Charlotte burst into a fit of quiet giggles. 

Sidney gave her a questioning look and she scooted a bit closer to him on the floor. 

“Your toe, Mr. Parker,” she said conspiratorially, quietly enough that the children, who were absorbed in their play, could not hear. 

Sidney looked down at his feet and noticed that his middle toe on his right foot was sticking out of his stocking. 

“Jenny and Alicia made them for me for Christmas,” Sidney said, swallowing back a laugh of his own. Each of the girls had knitted one sock, and their technique was clearly lacking. “The left one keeps falling down, while the right one is squeezing so tight that I might need the whole foot amputated.”

“They made me a pair too,” Charlotte said, now laughing in earnest. “But I think they made yours second, for they appear better than mine.” She pulled up her skirt slightly to reveal her own stockings. The left one had several holes, and the right one had two extra toes. 

Her laughter was contagious, and Sidney found himself joining in. It was intoxicating to sit this close to her again, to look into her eyes and enjoy the simple pleasure of playing with his nieces and nephews. 

James, who still required a daily nap, crawled over to Charlotte and began to cuddle up in her lap. Sidney reached over to brush the boy’s hair out of his eyes, bringing him even closer to Charlotte.

Her eyes met his for a second, and he knew that they were both thinking of the same thing. His heart tightened in his chest and he leaned back, turning to face Mary. 

“I think James needs his rest, Mary,” he called. Mary smiled and took James from Charlotte. 

Tom, who had been reading the paper most of the afternoon, suddenly appeared quite thunderstruck. He was staring at Sidney as though he had never seen him before. 

Before Sidney could inquire about his brother’s odd expression, the door opened and Eliza Campion sailed inside. 

“Mrs. Campion!” Mary exclaimed, holding James. “I apologize if you were knocking and we did not hear. The servants are off for Boxing Day, as I’m sure you know.” Mary glanced curiously over at Sidney. Sidney, who had not expected Eliza’s arrival, quickly pushed up to his feet, stepping away from where he and Charlotte had been whispering just a minute earlier. 

“Eliza!” He said, injecting some enthusiasm into his voice. “How good of you to join us!”

***

Dinner was an awkward affair for everyone but the children, who didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. 

“Why, Ms. Heywood,” Eliza said. “I confess that I am surprised to find you here, and even more surprised that your title is still Ms. Heywood. I should have thought you would be married to that craftsman you are so fond of by now...what was his name, Stranger?”

Sidney saw Charlotte’s fingers tighten around her fork. 

“I have not seen Mr. Stringer for months. He has a very prestigious apprenticeship in London,” Charlotte said, keeping her eyes on her plate. 

“I see,” Eliza continued. “Tell me, do you plan to help with the children here again next summer?”

“I’m afraid not,” Charlotte said. “Lady Susan has asked me to go abroad with her to Italy next summer.”

Sidney hadn’t known that.

“Those are lovely earrings, Mrs. Campion,” Mary interjected helpfully. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Parker,” Eliza said, tilting her head to show them off. “Sidney got them for me as a Christmas gift.”

To tell the truth, Sidney hadn’t noticed her earrings nor remembered that they were the ones he had purchased her. 

“How are things in London, Mrs. Campion?” Mary continued valiantly. 

“Dreadfully busy, with the wedding in April. I am simply swamped with the planning and the details.”

“I’m sure it will be a beautiful affair,” Mary smiled, glancing worriedly at Charlotte, who was determinedly eating her carrots. 

“Ms. Heywood, you will attend our wedding too, will you not? I know how fond of you Sidney is. He views you as a dear younger sister, after all.”

Charlotte continued calmly spearing vegetables with her fork. “I’m afraid I cannot. Lady Susan and I are set to leave in early May, and I will be busy with preparations.”

Eliza smiled, and Sidney was disturbed by the flash of victory on her face. While Eliza had never been overly concerned with kindness, Sidney had never known her to be cruel or vindictive. Still, she had come here tonight with a clear agenda in mind. 

Tom was being uncharacteristically quiet, and Sidney now turned to him. 

“Tom, you should tell Mrs. Campion about your plans to expand the regatta next year.”

Tom gave an unusually somber nod and launched into an explanation of how he hoped to attract more young men from London once the resort reopened in two years. 

***

Sidney escorted Eliza back to her hotel in town after dinner. 

“You will return to London with me tomorrow, will you not?” Eliza asked him. It was not a question. 

“Yes, of course,” he said obediently, bidding her goodnight with a kiss on the cheek. 

He meandered slowly back to Trafalgar House. He stared longingly at the tavern as he passed it, but he didn’t fancy riding back to London with a hangover tomorrow. 

To his surprise, as he walked along the cliffs, he spotted a familiar silhouette on the cliff closest to Trafalgar House. 

“Charlotte?” He called, not wanting to startle her. 

She didn’t respond until he drew closer. He caught a glimpse of her swiping furiously at her cheeks. 

“Mr. Parker,” she said, her voice still thick with tears. His chest ached. “Er...the cold air is bothering my sinuses a little.”

“Would you like to go inside?” He asked courteously, even though he knew she was lying.

“No, I love being out here. I’ve missed this view.” He could see the curve of her jaw in the moonlight, and he wanted to kiss the dimple in her chin. 

“I’m sorry about dinner–”

“Don’t,” Charlotte said, holding up a hand. “I don’t want to think about that right now. I just want to enjoy this.”

“Very well,” Sidney said, stepping next to her so they could both observe the rippling waves and bright stars. 

“This might sound silly,” Charlotte started. _Nothing you could ever say would be silly,_ he wanted to say. “But the ocean at night reminds me of you.”

Sidney barked out a laugh. “You should see the storms of the mid-Atlantic. They’re much more my style, I think.”

Charlotte tilted her head stubbornly as she considered the dark sea, the peacefully lapping waves, and the glowing stars. “No, this is definitely you,” she said in a voice that made it clear that she wouldn’t consider any other viewpoints. 

_God, he loved her._

“I got you a gift,” he said, pulling the small volume out of his pocket and passing it to her. “ _A Vindication of the Rights of Women._ I thought it would be fun for us to discuss.”

Charlotte took it, but she surprised him by whirling around to face him. 

“Please stop,” she said, suddenly sounding angry. 

“I can take it back if you don’t want it,” Sidney offered quickly. 

“I’m not some mistress, to be given secret gifts while you give your wife diamond earrings, Mr. Parker,” Charlotte bit out. 

Sidney placed his hands in his pockets. “Forgive me. It was thoughtless of me. I meant it as a gesture of friendship.”

Charlotte was silent for a moment. “No,” she sighed. “Forgive me. I know you do not mean to hurt me.”

“This is difficult,” Sidney said quietly.

“Indeed,” Charlotte agreed. “But I _am_ always glad to see you, even if it is only as friends.”

She turned back to the vista, biting her lower lip. “I’ve been thinking about something Dr. Fuchs told me over the summer. He studied in India for a year, you see, and he learned some things about eastern religion and medicine. He told me that Hindus and Buddhists believe in a thing called reincarnation.”

“When you die, your soul enters another being, and you take a different shape or form,” Sidney summarized, nodding. 

“Yes,” Charlotte said, her expression wistful in the moonlight. “I know it’s terribly un-Christian, but I have been thinking about reincarnation a lot recently. With how things ended between us, I’ve been hoping that...well, I have been thinking that if reincarnation exists, maybe next time around you and I–”

She faltered and didn’t finish the thought, but Sidney didn’t need to hear her words to understand what she was trying to say. 

He smiled at her, even though it hurt. “You know, I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of reincarnation myself,” he remarked. 

They stood outside until the cold became too much to bear. Sidney was acutely aware that this was probably the last time he would see Charlotte before he married. Perhaps it would be the last time he _ever_ saw her. She had said herself that she had no interest in attending the wedding, and that she would be abroad next summer. 

He escorted Charlotte back to the house and then he escorted himself straight to the tavern, where he drank himself under the table. 

***

The next time that Sidney could find an excuse to escape London was in mid-February. The weather was less than ideal for travel, of course, but he relished in the freedom of the open roads after so much time spent indoors at glittering parties and boring social events where everyone looked the same and discussed the same three topics over and over again. 

Tom and Mary had brought the children to the London house to spend the winter months in town, and Georgiana had written to ask if she could join them at Bedford Place. It was refreshing to see that Georgiana actually wanted to come to town and be a part of society. For so long, she had been mourning her old life in Antigua, the death of her parents, and the end of her relationship with Otis. 

Sidney set out to retrieve her on a cold, bright Tuesday morning. He would escort Georgiana back on the local stagecoach, and board his horse, Champion, in Sanditon. This set-up would give him a reason to escape to Sanditon again before the wedding, because he would have to return to retrieve Champion.

Pleased with this plan, he lost himself in the rhythm of his horse’s hoofbeats, stopping only to drink some tea and eat a small bowl of soup at a tavern along the road. 

The days were still dangerously short, and he wanted to make it to Sanditon before night fell and the cold truly set in. After he left the tavern at midday, however, the sun disappeared and thick, ominous clouds began blossoming across the sky. 

After an hour, gentle snowflakes began falling. 

After two hours, an inch of snow had accumulated on the ground. 

And after three hours, Sidney knew he was in trouble. He was still an hour away from Sanditon, and he could barely see thirty feet in any direction. Snow whipped his face, and the road was becoming difficult to make out in front of him. 

These kinds of storms were rare, in Sidney’s experience. So rare that in all his years of traveling back and forth between Sanditon and London, he had never encountered this kind of snow before. Champion was born from a prizewinning stallion and was the best horse Sidney had ever owned, but even he was unaccustomed to storms, and his unflagging energy began to slow. 

Shaking his head, Sidney pulled Champion off to the side of the road. He thought he could make out a house a few hundred yards in the distance, but it was a gamble. What if he tried to walk to the house and lost the road? What if it wasn’t a house at all, but an abandoned shack or simply a figment of his imagination? The light was fading fast, and he didn’t have many options.

He tried to nudge Champion back into action, but Champion nickered and refused to move, no doubt dreaming of his warm stable back in London, where he had all the hay and water he could ever possibly want. 

“You and me both, old friend,” Sidney muttered, dismounting. He supposed Champion had made the decision for the pair of them. 

***

Sidney had been close to death’s door before, but it had been in the hottest climate imaginable. He considered the irony of his current predicament as he made his way to the building he had seen from the road. He had long ceased to be able to feel his hands or his toes. Wind whipped around him and had stolen his hat from his head. 

He almost fell to his knees in relief when he got close enough to confirm that yes, the building he had seen was a house, and yes, there was a light in the first floor window and smoke puffing from the chimney. 

He brought Champion to a nearby stone barn. “Hello?” He called out, expecting a farm hand to greet him. A few mares, cows, and sheep blinked at him curiously, but nobody answered, so he simply settled Champion in one of the stalls with an old blanket that he found, along with some oats and water. He warmed his hands as best as he could and then set off for the house. 

He still couldn’t feel his fingers as he knocked at the front door, somewhat frantically. If the owners of the house turned him away, he’d have to stay with Champion in the barn. He’d survive, but it wouldn’t be pleasant. 

He was about to give up and turn around for the barn when the doorknob twisted and the door was cracked open. 

A young woman with dark eyes peered out at him nervously. He held up his hands to show that he meant no harm. 

“Please,” he called, his voice muffled by the wind. “I was traveling down the road but the storm became too bad. May I warm up inside for a bit?”

The dark eyes considered him for a moment, and then the door swung open wider. The girl stepped back, providing him with room to enter. She eyed him distrustfully. 

Sidney stepped inside. The entrance hall was dark, but he could make out a high ceiling, a stairway off to the left, and a hallway to the right where a bit of light spilled. The entire house felt like it was sleeping, which was odd for so early in the evening. 

“Thank you, miss,” Sidney started to say, hoping to appease the girl’s nervous expression. He was shivering too hard to bow. 

“Ali?” A voice called from down the hall. “Is it father?”

For a split second, Sidney was sure that this was all a dream and that he was still on the road, dying of the cold. Because that voice sounded like–

All of a sudden, another dark-haired woman rounded the corner and entered the room. 

Her mouth dropped open. “Mr. Parker?!” She exclaimed. “What–”

“Charlotte,” he said, smiling. She was beautiful. He didn’t care if this was a dream or reality anymore. 

“He seems awfully cold, Charlotte,” the girl called Ali was saying. 

Sidney heard a clicking noise and realized that it was his own teeth chattering. 

“Let’s get him into bed,” Charlotte replied, her tone business-like. “Come, Mr. Parker. You can rest in my brothers’ room. We’ll build you a nice fire and bring blankets.”

He allowed himself to be led as they walked somewhere. The last thing he remembered before he fell asleep was a small, warm hand feeling his forehead.

***

Things grew murky after that. Sidney felt like he was sitting in a rowboat and trying to row through a thick fog to find the shore. 

A gentle hand shook his arm persistently. “Mr. Parker…scarlet?...sick…”

The fog was too thick. _I’ll just row around for a while,_ he thought. _No rush to return home._

***

When Sidney opened his eyes again, things were much clearer. He was in an unfamiliar room on an unfamiliar bed, covered with a thick pile of unfamiliar blankets. A warm fire crackled in the corner. His fingers and toes tingled uncomfortably as he slowly regained feeling in them. 

The girl who had opened the door was sitting on a chair beside him, sleeping with her neck at an uncomfortable angle. 

Sidney tried to move quietly as he pushed himself into a sitting position, so as not to wake her. He examined his surroundings. There were several other beds in the room, as well as schoolbooks, a toy ark, and a cricket bat in the corner. He was still trying to decide which of his memories were real and which were fictional when the door to the room opened. 

Charlotte Heywood poked her head in, smiling when she saw that he was awake. 

He opened his mouth to ask a million questions, but she held a finger to her lips. She gently shook the girl in the chair. 

“Ali? Wake up. You can go to bed now, I’ll watch over Mr. Parker.”

_Ali._ Sidney suddenly remembered that Charlotte’s younger sister was named Alison. Had he somehow wandered off the road and straight to her house?

Alison stood and stretched sleepily, allowing herself to be blearily guided out of the room by Charlotte, who returned a few minutes later. 

“Mr. Parker,” she said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Her voice was music to his ears. She took the chair that her sister had recently vacated. “I do not think you can tease me about appearing everywhere you are anymore, after this episode.”

Sidney laughed. “Fair point, Ms. Heywood.”

“I’m glad to see you’re awake. Please try not to move too much. I’m sure you have many questions, and I have many questions for you too. But first, I’m afraid I must ask – have you ever had scarlet fever?”

“Hm? Yes, I had it in Antigua,” he murmured, lost in her familiar features. She looked slightly different from usual. She wore a blue homespun dress that appeared well-worn and comfortable. Her hair was tied back in a simple braid, with a few loose tendrils framing her face. Her stockings and shawl looked handknit, although the handiwork was much better than Alicia and Jenny’s attempts. 

He had never given it much thought before, but he supposed that this was how she normally dressed at home. He recalled that her father, while a gentleman, was quite dedicated to farming. It was one of the many things that Sidney admired about Charlotte, her willingness to get her hands dirty and perform physical tasks that many ladies would turn up their noses at. In Sidney’s opinion, hunting, harvesting, and managing a farm’s finances were all more useful skills than needlepoint and playing the pianoforte. 

He had only seen her in the dresses she wore in Sanditon and London, which Mary had seen to. They had been flattering and fashionable, but he found that he liked this look too. 

Still, he could tell from her exhausted and strained expression that all was not well. 

“Why are you asking about scarlet fever?” He asked, the implications of the question slowly dawning on him. 

Her smile was wan. “I’m afraid you have found us at a somewhat strange time. My sister and I are home with two of our younger siblings who caught scarlet fever. We dismissed the servants, and mother took the rest of the family to her sister’s house near Bath to keep the healthy ones away. Father left for the doctor this morning, but I don’t suppose he will be returning any time soon with this storm.”

“You are here alone?” He asked, concerned. No wonder Alison had looked frightened when a stranger appeared at the door and begged entry. 

“Don’t worry, Mr. Parker. I have father’s shotgun close at hand, and I am quite well-versed in using it.”

He smiled. “I would not dare to cross you, Ms. Heywood.” The thought of Charlotte confidently intimidating any man who dared to cross her stirred something deep and hungry inside of him. 

Realizing that he was staring at her rather intensely, he quickly changed the subject. “And your siblings? How do they fare?”

Charlotte sighed. “Maude seems a bit better today. It’s Peter I’m worried about. He had an infection as a babe, and I’m afraid his health has never been the same since then.”

“Please let me know if I can assist in any way, Ms. Heywood.” He could see that fear and worry weighed heavily on her shoulders, and he longed to lean forward and kiss the frown from her brow. 

“Thank you, Mr. Parker,” she smiled tiredly. “You can rest and recover from your journey. That will certainly help my spirits. How do you feel? And what brings you to Willingden?”

“I was traveling to Sanditon to collect Georgiana for a visit to London. I feel quite well, now that I’ve warmed up. I apologize for my sudden appearance. I’m sure there are men in the north of the country who would laugh at me for being overcome by this weather.”

Charlotte shook her head. “‘Nay, ‘tis quite a storm,” she disagreed. “I haven’t seen the likes of it since I was a little girl.”

He enjoyed the way she lapsed into the way of speaking he had heard from many people who lived in the countryside. 

“When do you expect your father to return?”

“I hoped he would be here tomorrow morning, but I suspect it may take him at least two or three days now. He went to find a doctor who lives about 30 miles to the east. With this weather, however, the road will be unpassable until the snow melts or several carriages flatten the path,” she said, the wrinkle in between her eyebrows reappearing. 

“I am afraid that I came from the east, and the snow was worse in that direction.”

“Yes, there tends to be less snow by the sea. It’s a milder climate due to the water’s relatively consistent temperature,” Charlotte remarked absently, standing to stoke the fire in the corner. 

Sidney stared at her. She would never cease to surprise him. “You enjoy studying the weather?” He asked, hoping to draw her out of her somber mood. 

It worked for a brief moment. “I enjoy studying everything, Mr. Parker. My curiosity is both a blessing and a curse, as you know from firsthand experience.” At her reference to the events of the summer, Charlotte’s smile dimmed slightly. 

“You should rest,” she said. “And I must attend to the children.”

She wearily clambered to her feet. Sidney had no idea how long he’d been asleep but it had to be well into the night by now. 

“Charlotte,” he said. He reached out and caught her wrist in his hand. He smoothed his thumb over her warm skin. “Who is going to attend to you? And make sure that you rest?”

Charlotte withdrew her hand as though she’d been burned. “It is not your place to worry about that, Mr. Parker,” she said. 

She fled the room after that. 

***

Sidney awoke the next morning determined to do _something._ He felt much better. He was still chilled and he suspected one of his toes was slightly frostbitten, but he had survived his trek through the snow without developing a cough or a fever, and that was something to be grateful for.

He got up and dressed quickly, before Charlotte or her sister could come to scold him back into bed. He glanced out the window and saw that the world was awash in white. 

He didn’t bother to look around the house or try to find Charlotte. He wanted to do something helpful before she inevitably caught him and tried to make him stop. 

“Going somewhere?” A familiar voice asked as he was searching the entryway for his boots and traveling cloak. 

Charlotte stood in the entryway, holding his boots. 

“Ah, Ms. Heywood. Good morning.”

“Breakfast is this way, Mr. Parker. Not outside,” Charlotte said, quirking an eyebrow at him. 

“Ah,” he said. “I was hoping to clear away the snow on the path to the road, so that your father’s return will be slightly easier.”

Charlotte surveyed him. “I won’t say no, because I know you will simply defy me. And I thank you for wanting to help. But you had the beginnings of hypothermia yesterday. You can eat a hot meal first, and then go outside.”

Sidney had to admit that this was a fair compromise. 

“Very well,” he agreed. “May I meet your siblings?” 

Charlotte nodded, motioning for him to follow her. 

He tried to take in every single detail of the house as he followed her down a hallway. This was where she had been born, where she had learned to walk and talk and read. He wanted to know the story of every scraped knee, every scolding, every discovery she had made while living in these walls. 

The house was built of stone, and had a slightly crooked feeling to it. She led him into a warm, spacious kitchen at the back of the house. The table and the pots and pans appeared old, but well cared for. An older woman with gray hair peeking out from beneath a cap stirred a pot of porridge. 

Charlotte’s younger sister Alison turned around from her position by the 

“Mr. Parker, this is my sister Alison,” Charlotte said. 

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Heywood,” Sidney said. He received a small curtsy and a shy smile in return. 

“And this is Martha, our cook,” Charlotte smiled at the older woman. “She’s had the fever before, and she refused to leave us.”

“I’m sorry we can’t offer you much,” Martha said by way of greeting, beginning to brew some tea. “We’ve been quite busy with the little’uns.”

“Of course,” Sidney said.

Martha served some porridge and eggs, and they all began eating silently, Sidney with gusto, Alison with a normal appetite, and Charlotte picking at her food. She had dark circles under her eyes, and Sidney vowed to find a way for her to get some rest today. 

“Come on,” Charlotte said when they finished eating. “Peter has been sleeping, but Maudie is excited to meet you. Alison told her all about how you rode through the snow to get here.”

Alison loaded a tray with portions for the sick children, and Charlotte led Sidney back down a hallway and up the stairs. The gray stone floors and walls of the house were complemented by mismatched and comfortable-looking furniture. Children’s artwork had been hung up on the walls. Sidney smiled when he saw a lopsided painting of a flower bouquet bearing Charlotte’s signature on the lower right corner. The entire house had the same feel as the kitchen – old, lived-in, but clean and well cared for. They passed by a parlor, a dining room, a library, and the large entryway. 

As she led him through the upstairs, he wondered which bedroom was hers. He had stayed in the first room at the top of the stairs, where she had mentioned that her brothers slept. 

“Here we are, Mr. Parker,” she said, smiling and pushing the door to a room at the end of the hall open. 

He shook himself out of thinking of Charlotte in her nightgown and followed her inside. The room was bright and cheery, probably a nursery for the younger children in the family. Toys had been pushed aside to clear a path towards two beds. 

“Good morning,” Charlotte greeted in a sing-song tone. Sidney could hear the forced brightness in her voice. 

A little girl, about 7 years old, stirred in the bed closest to the door. She pushed herself into a sitting position. 

“Is that Mr. Parker?” She asked, pointing at Sidney. 

“It’s rude to point, dear,” Charlotte said, placing some porridge in front of the girl. “And yes, this is Mr. Parker. Mr. Parker, this is Maude.”

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Heywood,” Sidney said, bowing deeply. 

Maude stared at him in open fascination, looking very pleased to receive a bow and a ‘Ms. Heywood.’

“Are you a pirate?” She asked. 

“Maude!” Charlotte exclaimed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Parker. I told Maude that you had visited Antigua. I’m afraid she thinks that everyone who has sailed across the ocean is a pirate.”

“Ah,” Sidney said, adopting the same tone he used when he told adventure stories to his own nieces and nephews. “No, Ms. Heywood, I am not a pirate. But I did meet some pirates on my way back from Antigua.”

She clapped her hands together, delighted. 

He took a seat in the chair by her bed to begin his story. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Charlotte made her way over to the other bed in the room, where a boy, even younger than Maude, slept listlessly. 

Peter didn’t wake up when Charlotte shook his shoulder and called his name. Sidney saw the anxiety settling over Charlotte’s shoulders. The boy needed a doctor, as soon as possible. Maude was a brightly bubbling brook, but Peter reminded Sidney of his father at the end of his life. Fading away and drying up. 

Sidney finished describing the time his ship had been boarded by pirates (it had actually been a fellow merchant ship that was taking on water and needed help getting back to port, but Maude didn’t need to know that). 

“Time to rest, Maude,” Charlotte said, taking the breakfast tray from her sister and smoothing the girl’s dark hair back from her face. 

“But I’m feeling better, Charlotte!” Maude exclaimed. 

“I know, my love, but you must continue resting so that your body can heal all the way. You don’t want to start feeling sick again, do you?”

“No!” Maude vigorously shook her head. 

“Here, you can read if you don’t feel like sleeping,” Charlotte said, passing Maude a dogeared copy of _Gulliver’s Travels._

Charlotte and Sidney left the room, and he watched the mask that Charlotte had put up for Maude fall. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Parker,” she said, turning away from him to hide her tears. 

“Charlotte–Ms. Heywood,” he corrected, hoping the added formality would make her feel more comfortable. “We are close friends to one another, are we not? You do not need to hide how you are feeling around me.”

Charlotte paused for a long moment. Then she slowly turned around to face him. He could see a tear making its way down her cheek. 

“I am so afraid, Mr. Parker,” she whispered, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. “Peter needs a doctor. I am not sure if I should ride myself and try to find one, or if I should simply wait here. Every moment that passes feels like a door is closing. What if I am making the wrong choice by staying here and waiting for Father to return?”

“Peter and Maude need you here,” Sidney said gently. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and tell her that he planned to ride for a doctor that afternoon, but he knew that that was something a husband would do, not a friend. Charlotte’s fierce independence would not allow her to simply accept help like that. No, he needed to play his cards carefully so that she would not try to stop him from leaving or try to go herself. 

“You are doing everything you can to care for them, Ms. Heywood, and they are very lucky to have you. Perhaps you can help me clear a path to the road. That way you can stay here and take care of your siblings, but you can do something to ease your father’s return.”

Sidney would have preferred to clear the snow himself, but if Charlotte could physically exhaust herself, she was far more likely to get some much-needed sleep. 

She wiped at her eyes. “Very well, Mr. Parker. I can’t stand just sitting around anymore. And...thank you, Mr. Parker,” she said sincerely. “I am not sure how you ended up at our farm, of all places, but I am glad to have a friend here right now.”

She smiled at him through her tears, and he fell in love with her all over again. 

“Come now,” he said, holding out an arm for her to take. “You must tell me where the spades are, and we must dress warmly…”

***

Sidney was gratified to find that his idea worked out. 

He and Charlotte toiled for most of the morning and much of the early afternoon before they had cleared a decent path that stretched all the way from the house to the road. The sun shone weakly, but the air remained cold. There was no chance of the snow melting quickly on its own. 

It was hard, honest work, and it was nice to lose himself in the repetitive motion of the shovel, the snow, and the earth. His arms ached and his frostbitten toe was still ominously numb, but he felt pleased to do something that helped, even if it was small. 

He could tell that the exercise had done Charlotte some good too. She looked ready to keel over and fall asleep in a snow drift when they were done. 

“Come on, let’s go back to the house and have some tea, Ms. Heywood,” Sidney said, taking Charlotte’s spade from her and gently steering her back to the house. She appeared slightly dazed, days of poor sleep and stress catching up to her all at once. 

Alison heard them come inside and she exited the children’s room upstairs. 

She took one look at her sister and seemed to understand Sidney’s intentions. 

“Shall I ask Martha to make us some tea?” She asked. “Perhaps we can sit in the library.”

“That would be lovely, Ms. Heywood,” Sidney said. He led Charlotte to the library, instantly understanding why Alison had suggested this room. There was a fireplace and a sofa where Charlotte could easily rest if she fell asleep. 

“Have a seat, Ms. Heywood,” Sidney said, motioning to the sofa. He wanted to help her sit, but it wouldn’t be proper. He focused his attention on getting a fire started instead. 

By the time Martha and Alison entered the room with tea, a warm fire was blazing in the hearth and Charlotte was sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket. 

Sidney looked up from his perusal of the library’s books. 

“Thank you, Martha, Ms. Heywood,” he said, giving the women a knowing smile. 

Alison served them tea, and then the three of them sat in silence. Alison picked up a book about architecture and she and Sidney both tried to avoid looking at Charlotte. Every now and then, Sidney chanced a sidelong glance at her, relieved to see that she seemed to be dozing off. 

They waited another hour, until it seemed that Charlotte had truly lapsed into a deep sleep. She had slumped over from her sitting position and was almost lying down. He and Alison looked at each other, and then stood by mutual agreement. Alison guided her sister into a prone position, repositioned the blanket over her, and then the two of them tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind them with a quiet click. 

“Thank you, Ms. Heywood,” Sidney said, moving briskly back to the entryway to don his cloak again. The sky outside was beginning to take on the rosy hue of dusk. “I must leave immediately to fetch a doctor.”

Alison bit her lip. “Are you sure you will be able to travel in this weather?”

Sidney was not sure, but he needed to try. “I will go to Sanditon, to the west. There should be less snow there. There is a doctor in town that I know will be of great help to Peter. If all goes well, I should be back sometime tonight.”

He expected Alison to protest, as her sister might have, but Alison simply nodded. He liked her quiet perceptiveness. She reminded him of the days when the ocean was clear, and you could stand on the cliffs of Sanditon and still see the bottom of the water. “Have a safe journey, Mr. Parker. We are deeply indebted to you for your kindness.”

Sidney nodded, donned his cloak, and headed back outside into the cold.

***

It was slow, difficult going. The road was completely obscured by snow, and Sidney was very glad that he had been riding between London and Sanditon his entire life. Otherwise, he might have very quickly become lost. 

Champion valiantly picked his way through the snow, which was up past the midpoint of his legs at some points. Sidney provided a steady stream of encouragement and frantically turned over the details of his plan in his head. 

How would Dr. Fuchs return to Willingden with him? It was already taking Champion twice as long as usual to get to Sanditon. Dr. Fuchs would not be able to find Charlotte’s house on his own, and Champion would not be able to carry both of them in these weather conditions. 

Perhaps Dr. Fuchs had his own horse? But that didn’t seem likely. He had only seen the doctor get around by carriage, which would not work on the roads right now. 

The temperature continued dropping as night fell, and Sidney began shivering. He hadn’t fully recovered from his journey the previous evening and spending all day outside had not helped much. 

“Come on, boy,” he murmured to Champion. “Just a bit farther, now.”

***

Fortunately for Sidney, Dr. Fuchs was from the Bavarian Alps. 

He sighed very heavily when Sidney came pounding at his door. “My bratwurst will get cold,” he grumbled. When Sidney offered up a large sum of money, however, Dr. Fuchs became much more pliant. And he seemed completely unbothered by cold weather or the prospect of riding two hours through the snow to reach his patient.

“You should see the Alps in the winter. Everyone there has lost at least one finger or one toe to frost. That is what inspired me to study the healing properties of steam and hot water, you know.”

Sidney tried to avoid rolling his eyes, remembering how Tom had forced him to attend the doctor’s medical demonstration over the summer.

“We will not be able to use ein carriage in this weather,” the doctor remarked, pulling on his riding coat. 

“I know,” Sidney said, impatiently tapping his finger against his leg. He needed to find a solution. 

“Perhaps we can leave tomorrow. The snow might melt then,” the doctor said, looking rather excited to return to his dinner.”

“Wait here,” Sidney said, an idea dawning on him. 

****

That was how Sidney found himself standing outside of his friend’s Sanditon house and shouting. 

“Babington!” 

He yelled several times before his friend poked his head out the front door, looking befuddled. 

“Parker? What’s–”

“I need a horse,” Sidney called. 

“Well, you may have your pick from the stables, old friend. You do not have to ask. Why don’t you come in for a hot meal first?”

“I can’t,” Sidney said. He felt time slipping away. “It’s Charlotte’s brother – he’s very ill and he needs Dr. Fuchs immediately.”

Sidney recalled the period in his early 20s when he had run away from his own life. He had been so wrapped up in his own pain that he had felt isolated and alone. Now, with more age and life experience, he was coming to see that those feelings had been unfounded. Every day, his friends and family proved themselves loyal and understanding beyond what Sidney deserved. 

Babington, for example, simply turned around and called inside the house. “It’s Sidney, Esther! He needs help. I’ll be back in an hour.”

Then he pulled on his gloves and motioned for Sidney to follow him to the stables. 

“Stay a good distance away from me, Babington. There’s scarlet fever at the Heywoods,” he remembered to say, thinking of Esther’s growing stomach. 

Babington nodded. “You will ride Champion to Dr. Fuchs’ house, and I will ride Ace. That way you will not have to guide both horses there.”

“Thank you, old friend,” Sidney said, not sure how to express his gratitude. 

Babington seemed to understand, however. 

“It makes you a better person, doesn’t it?” He asked, helping the stable hand settle a saddle on Ace’s back. 

“What?” Sidney asked. 

“Being in love, old chap,” Babington laughed.

***

Once it was all over, Sidney didn’t know quite what to do with himself. It had been a very strange two days. He had spent the whole time fixated on how to help Charlotte, and he hadn’t thought about the outcome when he actually managed to bring Dr. Fuchs back to Willingden. 

He sat on the staircase leading between the first and second floor of the Heywoods’ house. Charlotte and Alison had been inside the bedroom for several hours now, assisting the doctor. They periodically poked their heads out of the door to ask for ice or hot water or clean cloths. Sidney ran back and forth between the nursery and the kitchen, where Martha toiled to make sure they had all the supplies they needed. He was also on high alert, listening in case Maude awoke and cried out for anything. He had helped Alison move Maude to a different bedroom when Dr. Fuchs arrived so that she wouldn’t be frightened. 

When he had entered the room to help move Maude, he could tell from Dr. Fuchs’ expression that things were very grave with Peter.

The clock in the hall chimed 2 AM. Sidney jumped to his feet and began pacing, unable to bear just sitting and waiting. He felt weary and still half-frozen, but he was unwilling to sleep at such a critical time. 

He lost himself in the rhythm of pacing. He was not a religious man, but he sent up a prayer that Peter would pull through. He couldn’t imagine how terrible it would be to see one of his nieces or nephews this ill. 

Around 2:30, the door cracked open, and Dr. Fuchs emerged. 

“I have done all I can for ze boy,” he told Sidney, his German accent sounding heavier with exhaustion. “Now he must rest, and we will see if he fights through it.”

Alison followed him out of the room. “Here, Dr. Fuchs, let me show you to a room,” she said, leading him down the hallway.

Sidney entered the room quietly, walking over to where Charlotte sat. Peter was fast asleep, his cheeks red and his breathing shallow and rapid. The doctor had been alternating between ice water and warm water to try and keep the boy’s temperature stable. Charlotte’s dress was covered with patches of water, and half of her hair had fallen out of her braid. 

She held Peter’s little hand in her own. 

“I’m not going to leave and go to bed, if that’s what you’re about to ask,” Charlotte said stubbornly. 

Sidney shook his head. “I would not ask you to go to bed at a time like this. I’m here to sit with you.”

She looked up at him suddenly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That was rude of me. And I forgot to thank you--”

He held up a hand. “There’s no need,” he said. “You would do the same if Alicia or Jenny or Henry or James needed a doctor.”

“You have done our family such a great service, Mr. Parker,” Charlotte whispered. “I must confess that I was angry when I awoke earlier and Alison told me that you had left to retrieve Dr. Fuchs. But...I sometimes think that I try to be _too_ independent, and I refuse to accept help when I need it. It was obviously more suitable for you to go to Sanditon, since you are more familiar with the road. So...please. Accept my thanks.”

Sidney inclined his head in a nod. “Very well. But it was a privilege to be here and to be able to help.”

Charlotte let out a small laugh. “Mr. Sidney Parker, once again teaching me valuable lessons about my own character.”

Sidney laughed and gave a little mock bow. “At your service, my lady.”

They lapsed into comfortable silence after that. Sidney appreciated that he and Charlotte could be quiet together. Living out the events of his day – all of the quiet bits included – with her by his side felt like the most natural thing in the world. They had not made an effort to spend time with one another this past summer – the events of everyday living had simply pulled them into one another’s orbit time and time again, like strong currents meeting, clashing fiercely from time to time, but also pulling together. 

He supposed he must have had a life before last summer, but he couldn’t remember the details of it clearly. Even his past few months in London felt foggy. Nothing felt real now, except Peter’s breathing, Sidney’s cold toes, and the constellation of freckles on the right side of Charlotte’s nose. 

***

Charlotte eventually dozed off, but Sidney did his best to stay awake, feeling that one of them should monitor Peter’s status. He must have eventually slept, however, because when he was awake next, the sky outside was lightening. His neck was stiff, and he was aware of a comforting weight against his shoulder. Glancing down, he realized that Charlotte had leaned against him in her sleep. 

Sidney’s heart did a complicated little dance in his chest. 

He didn’t have much time to enjoy the sensation, however, because he remembered Peter’s labored breathing, and how greatly he feared finding out that the little boy had not survived the night. 

His stomach clenching, Sidney carefully peered at the boy. 

Peter’s cheeks were still flushed, but his breathing seemed much slower and more regular. Sidney touched the small hand that lay on the bed, letting out the breath he’d been holding. Peter’s hand was still a bit warm, but not dangerously hot like it had been last night. 

“Charlotte,” he whispered. He was reluctant to wake her, but she needed to know the good news immediately. “Wake up, dearest,” he murmured. 

Charlotte stirred, blinking at him sleepily. She looked confused before suddenly jolting to awareness. 

“Peter,” she gasped. “Peter, is he–”

“He’s alright,” Sidney said quickly. “See for yourself.”

Charlotte disbelievingly felt her little brother’s forehead. “His fever is much lower. Peter,” she said, gently shaking the boy. “Peter?”

The boy let out a small grumbling noise and a yawn. 

“Charlotte?” He mumbled, eyes slitted open like a cat. “Go ‘way. Tired.”

“Oh, Peter,” Charlotte breathed, dropping to her knees next to the bed. She smoothed Peter’s hair from his eyes. “You rest all that you want.”

***

Mr. Heywood arrived with the other doctor, Dr. Holland, that afternoon.

Peter was still very weak, but Dr. Holland agreed that the boy would pull through. 

“I would have been too late to save him,” the doctor said, shaking his head. “You did the right thing by retrieving Dr. Fuchs.”

Sidney let out an internal sigh of relief at this declaration. He was oddly terrified of Mr. Heywood. He found that he very much wanted Charlotte’s father to have a good opinion of him. 

Dr. Fuchs and Dr. Holland went outside to smoke their pipes and compare methods for treating gout. 

“You did very well, my girls,” Mr. Heywood said, embracing Charlotte and Alison. He was a warm man, but he had a stern demeanor. 

“Thank you, Father,” Charlotte said, beaming at her father. It was clear that she adored him. 

Mr. Heywood turned to Sidney, offering a handshake. “Mr. Parker,” he said. “We owe you an immense debt. You saved my son.”

“Charlotte and Alison and Martha had everything well in hand when I arrived here. I was happy to help, sir,” Sidney demurred. Mr. Heywood’s grip was very firm. 

“When I offered payment to Dr. Fuchs for his services, he told me that no further compensation was required,” Mr. Heywood said, eyeing Sidney sharply. “Imagine that.”

“Yes, well...Dr. Fuchs is very generous like that.” Sidney fought the urge to scratch the back of his neck nervously.

“Hm. You are a very good friend to Charlotte, to go so far out of your way to help.” There was definitely an interrogative edge to this statement. 

“Ms. Heywood helped my brother Tom greatly this summer. I was glad to return the favor,” Sidney said. 

He was considered for a long moment. “Would you like to stay for dinner, Mr. Parker?”

Sidney felt that he’d passed some sort of test. “I appreciate the offer, Mr. Heywood, but I must escort Dr. Fuchs back to Sanditon now. He has some patients to attend to tomorrow.”

“Charlotte, would you fetch the horses for Dr. Fuchs and Mr. Parker?” Mr. Heywood asked, keeping his gaze on Sidney. “I will walk our guest to the door.”

“Of course, Father.” She kissed her father on the cheek before exiting. 

Alison also bade Sidney farewell, and she disappeared upstairs to check on Peter and Maude. This left Sidney alone with Mr. Heywood. 

Sidney found himself wracking his brain for something intelligent and witty to say, just to make Mr. Heywood’s penetrating eyes less piercing. 

“You have a very nice estate, Mr. Heywood,” Sidney offered, fidgeting with the cuff on his sleeve. 

“It’s not meant to be nice, it’s meant to be productive and profitable,” Mr. Heywood replied sternly.

“Of course,” Sidney said weakly. 

They lapsed into another long silence again. 

“I had another daughter, once, Mr. Parker,” Mr. Heywood stated, turning to look out the window. His voice and face were just as composed as before, but Sidney sensed that this was a difficult subject. 

“Did Charlotte ever tell you? Her name was Anne.”

“No, sir.” Sidney had a sinking feeling in his stomach. With all the chaos, he had never asked Charlotte how she had acquired her immunity to scarlet fever.

“Our four oldest children all got scarlet fever one winter. Will was 8, Charlotte was 6, Alison was 5, and Anne was 3.” Mr. Heywood’s eyes seemed far away as he watched Charlotte work on the horses in the distance.

“That must have been very frightening,” Sidney said. 

“Charlotte and Anne were the sickest. I feared we would lose them both,” Mr. Heywood recalled, shaking his head. “But Charlotte has been a fighter since she drew her first breath. She wasn’t going to let it take her. Anne, on the other hand…” He sighed. “Well, she always was a gentle little soul.”

Sidney thought he better understood Mr. Heywood’s gruff, protective demeanor towards Charlotte. He also thought he understood why the Heywoods had gone on to have eight more children after Anne’s death. He remembered how things had changed after his parents’ deaths; how the Sanditon beaches that once had seemed warm and beautiful and as familiar as the back of his hand had suddenly felt distant, foreign, and strange. How he had tried to fill up those gaps and silences with a bold attitude, fights with his schoolmates, and brandy that he stole from his father’s medicine cabinet. 

“Thank you for telling me, sir,” Sidney said sincerely. 

“After everything that we went through that winter...well, it’s a miracle Charlotte survived.” He turned his keen gaze on Sidney. “I often think that every day that we have with her is a blessing,” he concluded. He pointedly tipped his hat towards Sidney. “Good day, Mr. Parker. It looks like my daughter has your horse ready”

As Sidney left the Heywood’s house, he felt like Mr. Heywood had been trying to give him some sort of warning as to how he should treat Charlotte. 

He hadn’t needed to know that she almost died as a child to know how precious and irreplaceable she was, however. 

*** 

He knew that they could only get away with being alone together in the barn for a few brief moments. 

There were so many things he wanted to say, but so little time. 

“I want to thank you again,” Charlotte said, passing him Champion’s reins. “I will never forget what you have done for us, Sidney.”

His heart somersaulted to hear her use his first name again.

“I have caused you much pain, Charlotte,” he replied. “It feels good to be a source of happiness to you and your family.”

“I know we may not see each other for some time after your wedding,” Charlotte said, her face turned towards Ace’s bridle. “But Tom and Mary have asked me to visit London soon, and Mr. Stringer has also invited me to see the building project he is working on there.”

Sidney did not enjoy jealousy in romantic relationships, but he had to fight off a small stab of fear at this last comment. Stringer was a fine man, and if it had to be someone else beside himself–

He did not want it to be someone else beside himself. 

“Perhaps our paths will cross again unexpectedly someday, as they always seem to,” Charlotte mused. 

Sidney placed a hand on her shoulder. He imagined that his glove and her dress were not blocking their skin from touching. “I will look for you everywhere,” he said softly. 

“No,” she said quietly, her face pained. “That is no way to live. You must learn to love your marriage with Eliza.”

“Charlotte, I–”

“Now,” she cut him off briskly, stubbornly changing the subject. “Alison and I have been reading Wollstonecraft, and we think it’s quite marvelous. However, I do think she is overlooking the way that one’s background can influence one’s experience as a woman. Georgiana is wealthy, but she is black. I am not wealthy, but I am of English blood. I have a much easier time than Georgiana, however. Therefore, our experiences as women are similar, but also quite different. Wollstonecraft has not accounted for this…”

Sidney listened to her exposition as they walked the horses to where Dr. Fuchs waited. 

_I believe I am my best self, my truest self, when I am with you._

As Willingden grew smaller and smaller behind them in the distance, Sidney felt like he had left the most genuine piece of himself behind.

***

Tom had been behaving oddly towards Sidney since Christmas, and after his snowy adventure in Willingden, Sidney found himself at the end of his patience.

He stood in Tom’s office at Bedford Place in early March. 

“Do you want me to ask Babington if he is interested in investing? He may be able to offer up to £5,000.”

“Hmm?” Tom murmured distractedly. “Ah, Sidney. No, I would not ask you to hound your friends.”

“Really? Because that’s never stopped you before. And Babington told me that he _wants_ to expand his investments.”

“No, my dear brother. You need not trouble yourself with that.”

Sidney had enough. “Tom! What is the matter with you?” He barked, slamming a hand on his brother’s desk.

“Nothing, Sidney. I am simply trying to ease your responsibilities.”

“You’ve never tried to do that before. And you’ve been behaving strangely since Christmas. Are you ill? Is something wrong with Mary? The children? Sanditon?”

Tom shuffled some papers around his desk.

“No, it’s none of those things.”

Sidney lost his temper. “Then _what_ _is it?_ I have been working hard to help you fix your problems with Sanditon for months now, the least you could do would be to talk to me or look at me every once in a while!”

Tom remained silent, staring down at his desk. 

Sidney let out a frustrated sigh and turned to leave. 

“It’s Charlotte,” Tom said quietly. 

Sidney whipped back around. “What is wrong with Charlotte?” 

“No, nothing is wrong with Charlotte. But...you see!” He waved his hand at Sidney. “This is what has been troubling me. You and Charlotte.”

“What about us?” Sidney asked impatiently. 

“You love each other.”

A long pause. 

“Yes,” Sidney said slowly, anger building in his throat. “You didn’t know that?”

Tom shook his head. “It all seemed so perfect,” he said miserably. “Eliza returned to society as a widow just before the fire happened. You loved her, and she could help finance the rebuilding of Sanditon…”

“Damn it, Tom! I was in the process of proposing to Charlotte when Edward Denham interrupted the ball the night of the fire. The fire started immediately after that, and I never got to finish my proposal.”

Tom scrubbed a hand over his face, despairing. “You really sacrificed your relationship with Charlotte for me, then? For Sanditon.”

“It was mostly for Mary’s sake and the children’s sake,” Sidney grumbled, unable to keep a note of bitterness out of his voice. He crossed over to the liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle of brandy and two glasses.

“Even now, you are prepared to wed Eliza, knowing that you do not love her,” Tom remarked, wonder and dismay in his voice. 

“Yes, Tom. I thought you knew all of this.”

Tom shook his head. “I confess that Mary tried to tell me, but I was sure that you loved Eliza. I was so sure, Sidney. After everything you went through when she married Campion–”

“I am not the same person I was when I was in love with Eliza,” Sidney sighed. “I have grown and changed since then, and I fear she has not.” He passed his brother a drink. 

Tom stood and walked to stand by the window. The light outside was weak and gray. Sidney could see gray hairs in his brother’s hair. He had never noticed them before. 

“I didn’t understand until I saw you and Charlotte playing with the children on Boxing Day. My god, man, the way you were looking at her–” Tom took a long swig of his brandy. 

“I love her, Tom. But you are my brother. And Mary and the children are my family. I must protect all of you, however I can.”

Tom's expression was anguished. “You must hate me, Sidney. My foolish mistake is costing you a lifetime of happiness.”

Sidney shrugged. “I am angry with you, but my anger cannot go back and change the fact that you did not insure the resort. I once told Charlotte that I felt I didn’t really fit anywhere, and I meant it. I do not believe I was meant to live a happy life.”

“But you must have believed it, Sidney.” Tom looked near tears. “For at least a few brief moments, when you were about to propose to Charlotte. And I have stolen that away from you.”

Sidney didn’t know what to say to that. He walked over to stand next to his brother. 

“Break it off with her, Sidney. Let me face the consequences,” Tom implored earnestly.

“I will not do that, Tom.”

“I promised Mother I would take care of you, on the day you were born. And now look what I have done. You must break it off. There must be some way–”

Sidney shook his head. “We both know that there is no way for us to raise £80,000.”

“We could hold an event. One that would attract the entire _beau monde_ – _”_ Tom offered up desperately. 

“Enough!” Sidney snapped. “Throwing events that we cannot afford is what caused this problem! You are _determined_ to make the same mistakes, again and again.”

Tom looked as though he’d been struck. “I am an utter failure, Sidney,” he said, shaking his head. 

Sidney had never seen his brother look so low. 

“No,” he said, remembering how much he used to look up to Tom as a child – Tom’s fearlessness, his bold ideas, his gregarious spirit. “You are an utter failure as a financier, but you are a good businessman. And a good man.”

He downed the rest of his drink and walked away, wondering when he had become the wiser out of the two of them. 

***

In the weeks leading up to the wedding, Sidney felt like he was trapped inside of a stage play. Events kept marching forward, and he was swept along with them, faking his way through his role.

He attended fittings for his wedding outfit, gave his opinion about what color napkins they should use at the party that would take place after the ceremony, made halfhearted inquiries into different honeymoon destinations, and studiously avoided Tom’s mournful gaze and Eliza’s shallow conversation whenever possible. 

He was out for a long walk at the park near Bedford Place when he bumped into Stringer. 

“Parker!” The man seemed to be in high spirits. 

“Hello, Stringer,” Sidney greeted. 

“I was just thinking about Sanditon when I spotted you,” Stringer said. 

“How is your apprenticeship? Are you enjoying London?” Sidney asked. He recalled grimly that Charlotte was planning to visit Stringer in the city soon. 

“Very much. But I’ll be leaving London permanently soon. I’ve just come from Willingden, actually.”

Something dark and ugly reared its head inside of Sidney. Willingden was a place of special memories for Sidney. He remembered the feeling of Charlotte’s head on his shoulder, the quiet creak of the old floorboards, and the reassuring sound of little Peter’s breath early in the morning. 

Stringer did not belong anywhere near these memories. Stringer should not be the one traveling between London and Willingden to visit Charlotte. 

“How is Ms. Heywood?” Sidney asked, feigning polite detachment. 

“She is very well, sir,” Stringer said. There was a bit of an edge to his voice. Perhaps Charlotte had told Stringer about how Sidney had failed her.

“Why will you be leaving London soon?” Sidney asked. “Is your apprenticeship ending?”

“My apprenticeship ends next month. And I am engaged, Mr. Parker. Very recently engaged,” Stringer beamed. “To one Ms. Heywood.”

Sidney almost dropped his cane. 

“Congratulations, Mr. Stringer,” he said, his voice sounding far away to his own ears. 

Stringer tipped his hat. “Thank you. I’ll be moving back to Sanditon with the missus after the wedding in the fall. Your brother has already asked me to sign on for the rebuild.”

Charlotte was going to _marry Stringer and live in Sanditon_?

“I apologize, Stringer. I just realized I’m late for a meeting with a business partner,” Sidney said vaguely. 

He didn’t remember what else he said when he bade Stringer farewell. His feet simply led him away. Away from the park, away from Bedford Place, and away from anywhere that he had to be Sidney Parker. He wanted to blend into the crowds of London and disappear forever, to forget himself and his entire life. 

He walked for hours, disregarding any sense of direction. He didn’t speak to anybody or look at anybody. He simply walked down the foul-smelling, musty streets, keenly aware of the painful hole in his chest where Charlotte had been. 

He had known, logically, that Charlotte would marry someone else too. She was intelligent, kind, and beautiful. He and Stringer had not been the only men with their eyes on her over the summer. 

But he had never allowed himself to consider what it would actually feel like for Charlotte to be part of a family that wasn’t his. For Charlotte to wake up next to somebody that wasn’t Sidney every morning. To carry somebody else’s child, to fight with somebody else, to comfort somebody else at the end of a long day. 

For the first time in many years, he wanted to weep.

****

He finally stopped walking when it was dark outside. He groaned when he realized where he was. His feet had taken him back to the brothel he and Charlotte had visited on their search for Georgiana. 

He leaned up against a wall, resting his legs for a moment. He considered the brothel in front of him. He could go inside and pay for a woman to sleep with him. It was an escape he had used a handful of times after he lost Eliza, back in the dark days before Tom and Arthur bought him a one-way ticket to Antigua. Back then, he’d been looking to forget, and he had found his peace in opium and women and drink. 

Ten years later, that seemed silly. He could sleep with as many women as he wanted tonight, but he would still wake up in the morning engaged to Eliza. It wouldn’t change anything. And frankly, the thought of being intimate with someone who wasn’t Charlotte repulsed him. His upcoming wedding night with Mrs. Campion was a whole other problem, one which he refused to consider at present. 

He turned around and began the long walk home. He was utterly miserable, but he was pleased to leave the brothel behind him without a second thought. He felt that he had beaten some of the demons that had nearly stolen his life away ten years ago. 

He was drawing near Bedford Place when he bumped into Tom, who appeared quite frantic. 

“Oh, Sidney – thank heavens! I’ve been looking for you for ages.” He pivoted and motioned for Sidney to follow him to the house. 

“What’s wrong?” Sidney asked, breaking into a light jog to keep up with his brother’s strides. 

“It’s Lady Denham,” Tom exhaled, sounding shocked. “She’s dead.”

***

The funeral, held in early April, was a simple affair. The late Lady Denham had not had many friends, and she only had one surviving heir. 

Lady Babington was only about a month away from delivering her child, but she had refused to stay in confinement for the funeral. This was good, in Sidney’s opinion, because Esther was probably the only human being with much real feeling towards Lady Denham. 

He found her after the service. “I’m sorry for your loss, Lady Babington,” he said. 

Esther nodded, wiping at her puffy eyes. “She was different, this last year. I think her illness last summer made her realize she wasn’t immortal.”

“I am glad you had that time with her,” Sidney said. He would have given anything for one more year with his mother or father. 

He thought about how Esther had been walking down the same path as Lady Denham – well on her way to one day becoming the same kind of wealthy, unloved, rude old woman. How she had managed to pull herself off of that path and start her life in a new direction. 

“Mr. Parker,” Lady Babington said quietly. “The solicitor will read the will tomorrow. Will you...that is, could you...keep an eye out for my former stepbrother?”

“Of course, Lady Babington,” Sidney assured her. He knew what it was like for old memories to continue to haunt you, years later. 

***

He bumped into Charlotte at the luncheon after the funeral. She looked lovely, even dressed in all black. She was accompanied by Mr. Stringer and her sister Alison, oddly enough. 

“Hello, Mr. Parker,” she greeted him with her usual bright smile. 

He fell into step with her, while Stringer and Alison walked ahead. 

“I heard about the engagement,” he intoned flatly, motioning to Stringer. “Congratulations.”

Charlotte beamed at him. “Isn’t it exciting?” She asked. 

Sidney wheeled to face her, disbelieving. He felt ill. Had she gotten over him that quickly? She seemed genuinely pleased. Had he only imagined the depth of the connection between himself and her, all this time?

“It is not what I expected,” Sidney replied, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. He reminded himself that if this was what she wanted, then he had no right to hold her back. 

“Me either, to be honest,” Charlotte shrugged. How could she be so casual? “But I had been hoping for it these past few months.”

Sidney couldn’t bear it any longer. “I see,” he said crisply. “Good day, Ms. Heywood.”

He gave a little bow and quickly left her side, ignoring the furrow that appeared between Charlotte’s eyebrows as he left.

***

Sidney hung back at the will reading. 

He didn’t feel much for Lady Denham’s loss, but he did think it was strange that she was gone. He still remembered when she had moved into the neighborhood. She had yelled at him for sneaking into her orchard to steal fruit when he was twelve. 

The will was to be read outside, in the Denham estate’s gardens. It was the first day of real warm weather that year, and it reminded him of summer. He ignored Charlotte’s pointed attempts to meet his gaze, even though it pained him to put any sort of distance in between them. 

He was so busy ruminating on how he had missed Charlotte’s developing relationship with Stringer that he almost missed Edward Denham’s subtle arrival. Denham emerged from the wooded area that bordered the garden, quickly making his way towards the gathering. 

Sidney edged closer to Denham, hoping he could head the man off before he did something stupid. The man had clearly had a difficult year. His beard was scraggly and his face was gaunt. His clothes appeared stained and worn, and he walked with a drunk stumble. 

“Don’t do it, man,” Sidney said quietly, holding a hand up. 

The solicitor droned on behind them. “...all assets, including the Denham estate, shall…”

“YOU FILTHY BITCH!” Denham shouted abruptly. 

Everyone wheeled around. 

“That’s enough,” Sidney hissed, grabbing Denham’s arm and attempting to drag him away. 

“You’re nothing but a whore, Esther Denham!” Denham screamed, wrestling against Sidney’s grip. “How long before your husband learns that, eh?”

A horrified silence had fallen over the small crowd. Sidney saw Esther’s expression waver for a second, but then Babington was standing up, walking purposefully towards Sidney and Denham, and very calmly punching Edward Denham in the face. 

***

Sidney missed the rest of the will reading, because he and Arthur had to drag a semi-conscious Edward Denham to the stagecoach. 

“Well, good riddance,” Arthur sighed, shaking his head. “Lady Babington is so nice. I can’t imagine how she wound up with such a horrid brother.”

Sidney wasn’t sure he would ever use the word “nice” to describe Esther, but that was Arthur for you.

“How are you, brother?” Arthur continued. Sidney was panting slightly at Denham’s dead weight, but Arthur seemed untroubled. 

A sudden memory returned to Sidney - the sound of his mother’s voice, a summer afternoon, bees buzzing. 

“Arthur,” he said suddenly. “Do you remember that time when we went on a picnic? And Mother told Father to grab the picnic basket, but he accidentally grabbed one of the servants’ sewing baskets? So we walked all the way up the cliffs--”

“And the only thing in the picnic basket was some socks that needed mending,” Arthur finished.

“Mother was so mad,” Sidney laughed, shaking his head. “But then Father found those berry bushes.”

“We ate berries for lunch,” Arthur said fondly. “I remember it well.”

“They really loved each other,” Sidney mused. He didn’t have many memories of his parents together growing up, and he had forgotten this one for a long time. 

“Yes,” Arthur nodded. “It killed Father when she died. That’s why I’ve never had much interest in marrying, myself.”

“Do you think he regretted it? Marrying her and having to lose her?”

Arthur shook his head. “My room was next to his study, remember? I used to hear him talking to her in the evenings, after she was gone. Just telling her about his day and about what all of us had gotten up to.” Arthur propped Denham up against a wall near the stagecoach. “He loved her until the very end, Sidney.”

Sidney was saved from having to respond to this rather extraordinary statement by the arrival of the stagecoach. 

***

Sidney went for an evening swim at the cove. It would have been polite to ask Lady Babington if she was well and to assure her and Babs that they had successfully gotten Edward Denham out of town. He tried to convince himself to walk over to Babington’s house, but he couldn’t bear it. 

His fingers itched at the idea of sitting still inside and making polite conversation. He jogged to the cove, comfortably stripping off his clothes and shoes at the edge of the sand. It was still much too cold for the water to be pleasant, but there was something bracing and reassuring about the shock of icy water as he dove beneath the surf. 

He allowed himself to be buoyed by the waves, drifting aimlessly about in the safety of the cove. The stars glimmered overhead. Sidney’s heart ached as he remembered how Charlotte had once compared him to the ocean at night. He supposed that was true, but only when she was in his life. His stormy seas were calmer, gentler, deeper when she was around him. Without her, he feared he would revert back to a troubled Atlantic ocean for the rest of his days. 

He knew he didn’t have much time to swim since the water was so cold, but he kept promising himself just one more moment. It felt good to do something so physical. 

He was jolted out of his peaceful reverie by a familiar voice on the beach. 

“Mr. Parker!” Charlotte shouted. She sounded furious. 

He sputtered, swallowing some salt water. 

“Mr. Parker!” She shouted again. She wasn’t waiting for him to get out of the water, he noticed with a mixture of shock and amusement. She simply kicked off her boots and marched straight into the surf. 

“Hang on, don’t come further!” He shouted. “It’s too cold.” He dove below the surface and began to swim, allowing the waves to push him back towards shore. 

Charlotte wasn’t listening, as usual. She waded in well past her knees and was waiting for him when he resurfaced, arms crossed over her chest and expression fierce. 

Sidney went to stand up next to her, slightly discomfited by the way she towered over him. He remembered that he was completely nude at the last second and dropped back down into the water with an undignified splash. He continued to sit on the sand, praying that the sky was dark enough so that she wouldn’t be able to see him through the water. 

“Er, Charlotte,” he said awkwardly. “Perhaps you can turn around for a moment–”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Charlotte scoffed. She did look slightly uncomfortable, however, fixing her gaze over his left shoulder. 

“As, erm, interesting as this situation is, we would be in a lot of trouble if somebody wandered past right now,” Sidney said firmly. He stood up and quickly walked out of the water. He was dying to glance over his shoulder and see if she was watching him, but he kept his gaze fixed ahead, pulling on his shirt and pants. 

“Would you like to come have this conversation on dry land?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow at her. 

“You don’t get to do that!” She exclaimed angrily, throwing up her arms. She stayed firmly planted where she stood in the waves, and he rejoined her, reluctantly feeling the cold water seep through his warm, dry pants.

“Do what?” He asked, shaking wet hair out of his eyes. 

“Decide that you want to be all cold and aloof with me all of a sudden!”

“Charlotte–”

“Don’t ‘Charlotte’ me, Mr. Parker! You promised that we would be friends, did you not?” They were practically standing toe-to-toe now, and the air between them felt charged with electricity. 

His shoulders sagged. “Yes, I did promise that.”

“Then why are you suddenly behaving coldly to me?” When she glared, she wrinkled her nose slightly. He wanted to kiss her, but he was certain he would receive a black eye if he tried that right now. 

He sighed, feeling embarrassed. “I know it isn’t right. It’s just, with your engagement to Mr. Stringer-”

“For the love of – Mr. Parker!” Charlotte groaned in exasperation. 

“You’re right, I’ve broken my promise to you,” Sidney continued. 

“I’m not engaged to Mr. Stringer!” Charlotte shouted over him. 

Sidney stopped dead in his tracks. “You aren’t?” He asked, confused. 

“ _Alison_ is, foolish man.”

“Stringer – and Alison?” Sidney asked.

Charlotte rolled her eyes, some of the fire leaving her posture. “ _Yes._ I introduced them last year in a letter. Alison is very interested in architecture, you see. She’s been helping Father design buildings on the estate for years. I thought they’d be good friends,” she shrugged. “They started corresponding with one another, and it grew into an attachment. Mr. Stringer proposed after he finished his apprenticeship.”

“Oh.”

“ _Oh_ , indeed,” Charlotte grumbled, frowning at him. 

“I’m sorry, Charlotte,” Sidney sighed. “You’re right, it was very unfair of me. You have consistently proven to be a better person than I am, I’m afraid.”

Charlotte shook her head. There was a droplet of water on her forehead. “No,” she sighed. “You are a good man, Sidney Parker.” She glared at him. “Although you are an ass sometimes.”

“Fair,” he laughed. 

They lapsed into a relieved, companionable silence. Sidney’s feet and legs were completely numb from the cold water. Oddly, cold toes were becoming a habit in Charlotte’s presence. 

“I leave for Italy in two weeks,” Charlotte said quietly, her eyes on the stars. 

Sidney forced himself to smile. “You’ll love it,” he promised. Then, not sure what overcame him, he reached out and took her warm hand in his. “Charlotte–” he began, not sure what he was about to say. 

“SIDNEY! _Sidney!”_ Tom’s familiar voice rang out through the darkness, interrupting whatever foolish declaration Sidney might have made. 

He and Charlotte broke apart as though they’d been struck by lightning. 

“Tom?” Sidney called, worry twisting his gut. Was something wrong with Mary? Or the children?

To his surprise, Tom and Babington appeared from the darkness. Babington was grinning, and Tom looked beside himself, although Sidney could not tell if it was with fear, anger, or joy. 

“This man,” Tom panted, motioning vigorously to Babington. “This man! He is going to change our circumstances!”

“It’s actually my wife,” Babington clarified. 

“We are saved, Sidney!” Tom leaped right into the water, grabbed Sidney and Charlotte’s hands, and began to dance excitedly. 

“I wouldn’t go quite that far, Mr. Parker,” Babington cautioned. 

“Alright,” Charlotte broke in, ever the voice of reason. “Someone tell us what is happening. Clearly and slowly, please.”

If Tom or Babington thought it was odd that he and Charlotte were standing knee-deep in the ocean at midnight, neither of them said anything. 

“It’s Lady Babington!” Tom exclaimed, the words falling quickly out of his mouth. “She received Lady Denham’s entire estate. And she’s _going to invest the entire thing in Sanditon!”_

Sidney gaped at his friend. 

“Why, Babington?” He asked. “Sanditon is, by all accounts, a resounding failure.”

Tom winced at Sidney’s honesty, but didn’t let it affect his good spirits. 

“Esther and I are living very comfortably off of my estate,” Babington shrugged. “We don’t need the money. We talked it over, and we decided that it would be best to invest it. That way, our children will have different sources of income to supplement their inheritance.”

“But you would be throwing money at a sinking ship,” Sidney shook his head. 

“Not if a new crew steps in to pilot the ship,” Tom gleefully exclaimed. 

“Esther has a few terms and conditions before she invests,” Babington explained. “She wants someone besides Tom to manage the finances for Sanditon. She suggested a committee, actually. You, me, and Ms. Heywood.”

“ _Me_?” Charlotte wrinkled her brow. “Why me? I don’t know the first thing about running a large business-”

“Because you will keep Mr. Parker from doing anything stupid with the money,” Babington smiled. “Esther said that we needed at least one woman on our committee to keep things sensible. Also, we all know that you played an instrumental role in running Sanditon last summer.”

Sidney could see a hint of a smile beginning to grow on Charlotte’s face. He hardly dared to hope what this investment could mean for his engagement to Eliza. 

“Babington,” he said, quiet and serious. “How much is this investment?”

He could instantly tell from Babington’s expression that it wasn’t going to be enough. “Er...£30,000.”

Sidney’s heart fell. “That’s great, old chap,” he said, mustering a smile. It was £30,000 less that he would have to charm and cajole out of Eliza once they were married. 

“And I want to personally invest £5,000,” Babington added. 

“Arthur and Diana said their offer of £10,000 is still on the table.”

“Wow,” Charlotte breathed. Tom’s enthusiasm was apparently catching. “£45,000 towards the cause, all in one day.”

“I suppose the other £35,000 will have to come from Eliza and I,” Sidney said stiffly. His soul felt dirty at the prospect of the conversation he was going to have to have with Eliza after they married. As soon as they were husband and wife, all of her money belonged to him. But he did not want to treat her as submissive to him. 

The spirits of the group appeared to flag slightly. “There is still time,” Tom said, ever the optimist. “I have some creditors who require payment next month, but there are a few who said they would give me until the end of the summer. A year from when the fire occurred.”

“I receive my inheritance next month when I turn twenty-one,” Charlotte interjected, looking shy. “I could give some money. Perhaps a few hundred pounds.”

Sidney suspected that, given the number of children Mr. Heywood had, her inheritance would only be about £1,000. 

“Nonsense, Charlotte!” Tom declared, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Save your money. You have done more for this enterprise than even I have.”

The four of them walked back up to Trafalgar House, where they spent much of the night poring over figures. No matter which way they arranged things, they were still short £35,000. 

Sidney’s wedding was exactly two weeks away. 

***

“Take the money from me,” Georgiana said casually over dinner the next evening. 

“What money?” Sidney asked. He’d been distracted all day. 

Georgiana rolled her eyes, sipping her wine. “The £35,000. Take it from my savings.”

“I can’t do that,” Sidney shook his head. “It would be completely unethical. Your father intended for you to have that money when you turned twenty-one--”

“And I’ll be twenty-one in eight months, but it will be too late then. You need the money next week, so take it from me now.”

“Thank you, Georgiana, but I will not do that,” he said firmly.

Georgiana wasn’t backing down. “I want my friend to be happy! I don’t care if I have £100,000 or £65,000 or £30,000. What am I going to do with all of that money, anyway?”

“You are too young to know what you want to do with your money, and that is why I will not take it from you,” Sidney argued. 

“Fine. Then I will marry Mr. Arthur Parker, and he will own my money. And he can give Tom £35,000.”

Sidney dropped his fork. “You will marry _who?”_

“Mr. Arthur. He’s much nicer than you are, at any rate.”

“Georgiana.” He gaped at her, baffled. “Do you....love my brother?”

Georgiana shrugged, seeming unconcerned. “We are very good friends. And I’m tired of love, to be honest.”

“Georgiana,” Sidney said, unable to believe what he was hearing. “You can marry my brother when you turn twenty-one, if you still want to. But until you are twenty-one, you are my ward. And I will not allow you to marry my brother until you are an adult and can decide for yourself.”

Georgiana frowned. “But you and Charlotte–”

“I made a promise to your father, Georgiana. I will not break it.”

“Fine,” she snapped, sitting back in her seat. 

They resumed eating silently, but Sidney did not like the scheming look on Georgiana’s face. 

***

Sidney and Georgiana returned to London the next day. Sidney was instantly swept into a wave of wedding preparations, while Georgiana disappeared into her room for the entire day, only emerging around dinner with a handful of letters. 

“I’m off to post these,” she declared airily, holding the letters behind her back.

Sidney was busy looking at the wedding expenses. He didn’t think twice about this odd behavior. 

***

“I’m sorry, Sidney,” Tom said mournfully, sipping his brandy. 

It was two nights before Sidney’s wedding, and he was in Tom’s office with both of his brothers, Babington, and Crowe. It was supposed to be a pre-wedding celebration, but the mood was decidedly somber. 

“Yeah, poor Sidney can only sleep with one woman for the rest of his life now!” Crowe cackled. He was drunk as usual and had completely missed the tone of the group. 

Babington jabbed Crowe with his elbow. “Do us a favor and shut up, Crowe,” he groaned. 

“I’ve been over the numbers hundreds of times,” Tom shook his head. “No matter what I do, we’re still out £35,000.”

“Maybe you could sell this house,” Babington suggested. 

“I already thought of that,” Tom sighed, shaking his head. “But–”

“We need to keep a place here in London if we want to attract the London crowd to the resort,” Sidney answered. “Besides, this house is old and outdated. It won’t sell quickly or easily.”

Tom, Arthur and Babington all sighed. Crowe let out a loud belch. 

***

Mary, Diana, Georgiana, and Eliza were all in the parlor, supposedly having their own celebration to welcome Eliza into the family. 

Sidney poked his head in. “I hope you ladies are having a nice evening,” he said, pointedly staring at Georgiana. He could only hope that she hadn’t been tormenting Eliza too badly. 

“Go away, Sidney,” Georgiana glared. “It’s bad luck for you to see Mrs. Campion before the wedding.”

“Tomorrow is the day that I can’t see her, not today,” Sidney said. “Eliza, may I borrow you for a moment?”

Eliza looked relieved to escape, glancing at Georgiana as she stood, smoothing her skirt. 

“Hello, darling,” Eliza said, smiling at him as they slipped into the hall. As usual, there was a note of false cheer in her voice. “I feel like I’ve hardly seen you at all these past few months. I shall be quite relieved when the wedding is over.”

“Me too,” Sidney said. He suspected they would be relieved for very different reasons, though. He wanted this uncertainty and false hope to end, while she wanted to see him firmly separated from Charlotte. 

“Why did you want to see me?”

Sidney gathered his courage. He felt he owed a moment of honesty to them both, before they did something irreversible. “Eliza...are you sure you want to go through with this?”

Eliza’s polite, perfect smile slipped slightly. “Whatever are you talking about, Sidney?”

He sighed. “Surely you must know that I am in love with Ms. Heywood.”

Eliza let out a cool laugh, much different from the carefree one he remembered from his early twenties. 

“Oh, I know that you _think_ you are in love with the girl. But that will fade away soon enough.”

Sidney shook his head. “I’m afraid that my feelings for Charlotte are not going to change.”

Eliza’s polite demeanor had fallen away. “And yet, I say that they will. Let’s cut the pretense, Sidney. You are reliant on me for money, are you not?”

Sidney nodded slowly. 

“Well, you might own my money once we are married, but you cannot own my reputation. Do not forget that I have great power and influence in London society. If you disrespect our marriage, I will not hesitate to ruin your brother and his family. Is that understood?”

She stared at him coldly. 

“What has happened to you, Eliza?” He asked quietly. 

She sneered at him. “I grew up,” she snapped. “It’s time you grow up too. Marriage is a business deal, not a love contract, Sidney. Your brother’s resort has the potential to make us the richest people in England, if all goes according to plan during the rebuild.” She pivoted on one heel and returned to the parlor, leaving Sidney stunned. 

“Ah, yes, where were we in our game of cards?...” He heard her say lightly, her mask firmly back in place. 

***

Sidney spent the afternoon before his wedding on a long walk. He couldn’t stop thinking about Eliza’s words the night before. He wondered at the fact that he’d once believed he’d known her. He remembered her twirling happily at a summer ball ten years earlier, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. She had come to a crossroads shortly thereafter and found herself with a choice between Sidney and Campion. It seemed that she had chosen the path of ambition and wealth over the path of happiness and affection. 

He rubbed a hand over his face, wondering how they’d all gotten into this mess. It had started with Tom, he supposed, as everything always seemed to. Tom was the one who had found Charlotte and brought her to Sanditon, Tom had bitten off more than he could chew, Tom had not insured the buildings. 

And yet, that was an oversimplification. They had all played their parts in the events of the last year, from Tom, to Mary, to the Denhams, Charlotte, Stringer, Georgiana, and beyond. It had been the most wonderful, most painful year of his life. He had learned more about himself since last summer than he had for his entire adulthood combined. 

He smiled wistfully to himself as he ambled through a wealthy neighborhood. 

“Mr. Parker!” A familiar voice called from across the cobblestone pavement. “Penny for your thoughts?” 

He looked up to find Lady Susan standing outside of an elegant townhouse. Servants bustled around her, loading an ornate trunk and several valises into a stylish carriage.

“Lady Susan,” he said, offering a bow. He couldn’t stop himself from reflexively glancing towards the windows of the house, looking for Charlotte. He thought he caught the flutter of a curtain and a flash of dark hair from the corner of his eye on the second floor, but he could have been imagining it. 

“Well,” she said, pulling on a pair of traveling gloves. “I understand that your wedding is tomorrow.”

“Yes, Lady Susan.”

“And you have no plans to, ah, consider other options,” Lady Susan said, her gaze piercing. 

“No, I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Sidney shook his head. 

“Charlotte and I depart for Italy tonight, Mr. Parker. My carriage will take us to Portsmouth tonight, and our ship leaves in the morning.”

“I hope you will enjoy your trip,” Sidney nodded, fighting the urge to grit his teeth. 

“I’m sure we will, Mr. Parker. Our first stop is Sardinia, naturally.”

“I hear it’s lovely this time of year,” Sidney replied distractedly, looking for another flutter of the curtains. “Safe travels, Lady Susan.” He turned to leave when Lady Susan sighed. 

“I’m afraid I expected more from you, Mr. Parker.”

Sidney flipped his gaze back around to her. “I have done my best, Lady Susan,” he snapped. 

She quirked an eyebrow at him. 

“I apologize,” he sighed unhappily. “Just – take care of her, please? Look out for her?”

Lady Susan nodded. “With all my heart.”

Sidney glanced back one more time as he walked away but there was nobody standing in the upstairs window. He felt the knot tying his heart to Charlotte’s tug, the loops that they had gradually assembled over the past year abruptly tested by the impending distance that would grow between them tomorrow, as she set sail for adventures in Italy and he drifted towards an unhappy altar. 

***

Sidney didn’t expect anyone to still be awake when he arrived back at Bedford Place. 

He frequently wandered the London streets until well past midnight, enjoying the fact that he could blend in with the crowds on the street. During the day, he was expected to be well-groomed and mild-mannered, a perfect representative of the Parker family. But at night, nobody cared if he wore an unfashionable jacket or brooding expression. He grimly smoked his pipe, watching women flirt with wealthy men, wealthy men lose their fortunes gambling, and men of all classes brawl with one another outside of pubs and taverns. 

Normally, nobody paid him any mind. He could simply blend in with the shadows and the scenery. 

Tonight, however, it seemed that all eyes were upon him. 

“–Sidney Parker, did you hear–”

“Parker...engaged to Mrs. Campion–”

“Quite the scandal…”

The first time he overhead a whispered conversation about himself, he simply shrugged it off. He was bound to be recognized from time to time. 

But by the fourth or fifth time, he hastened his pace back to Bedford Place. 

“What has Tom done _now_?” He grumbled under his breath as he jogged up the front steps. 

Instead of the usual silence in the house at 1 in the morning, he was greeted by pandemonium, noise, and light. 

“Oh, Sidney–”

“It’s really all very shocking!”

“–Get to Portsmouth immediately!”

Tom, Mary, Arthur, Diana, and Georgiana were all talking over one another. They seemed to have been waiting right by the door, and he was engulfed into a throng of gesturing arms and wild expressions. 

“SHUT UP!” He shouted, waiting for everyone to stop talking over each other. 

He scanned their faces. “Mary,” he said, selecting the most rational person in the family. “Please tell me what is happening. Is everyone okay?”

Even Mary seemed unusually flustered. “Oh, Sidney. It’s hard to explain. Everyone is fine, it’s just that–well–”

Unable to stand it any longer, Tom burst into a flurry of words. “There’s been a scandal with Mrs. Campion!”

“She’s bankrupt!” Chorused Diana and Arthur. 

Sidney paused in place. He slowly began to take off his gloves, one finger at a time, just to give himself something to do with his hands. 

“Explain,” he managed finally, his head swirling with questions. 

“It’s all over the evening papers, Sidney,” Diana piped up. 

“They’re saying that she tried to marry into our family because she wants to be attached to Sanditon’s potential wealth and Lady Susan’s reputation!” Arthur continued. 

“Her late husband had massive gambling debts,” Georgiana said quietly. 

Sidney wheeled around to face her. She stared straight ahead, chin up, not meeting his gaze. 

Sidney narrowed his eyes. “You know something about this.”

“Maybe,” Georgiana shrugged. 

Everyone else wheeled around to look at her. 

“Well, out with it!” Tom exclaimed eagerly. “What do you know, and how do you know it?”

“I wrote the letter to the _Times,_ ” Georgiana admitted, casually examining her nails. “I told them about her financial situation.”

Diana and Mary both gasped. 

“But is it true, Georgiana?” Mary asked, looking gravely concerned. “You didn’t tell a falsehood about her, did you?”

“Oh, no,” Georgiana laughed. “It’s definitely true.”

“It was Otis,” Sidney said, certain that he was right. “Otis must have run in the same circles as the late Mr. Campion.”

Georgiana laughed. “Correct. Otis still sends me letters from time to time. I never respond to them,” she added hastily, seeing Sidney’s furious expression. “He said that he wants to be truthful with me. So he’s been explaining how he got into so much debt. He mentioned Mr. Campion in a letter from a few months ago. I did some investigating and put the pieces about Mrs. Campion’s situation together.”

“So you’ve known that she doesn’t have any money for some time now?!” Tom exclaimed, incredulous. 

Georgiana rolled her eyes. “To tell the truth, I didn’t really care at first. I thought Sidney deserved to be miserable after the way he treated Charlotte.”

“Georgiana,” Mary started in a tone of motherly scolding. 

“No,” Sidney said to Mary. “Georgiana’s right. I was a jackass as her guardian.”

“He really loves Charlotte,” Georgiana said quietly. “It took me awhile to be certain. But once I was, I wrote to the _Times.”_

“You have to go after Charlotte!” Diana spoke up, clutching one of his hands in hers. “Before it’s too late!”

“But we have to figure out how to get the rest of the money,” Sidney said gravely. “The creditors will come knocking in the morning when they hear of the broken engagement.”

“Don’t worry about that, Sidney,” Tom said, shaking his head. “You must go to Portsmouth immediately. We’ll brainstorm while you’re gone, and we’ll hold them off.”

Sidney looked around at their eager faces, disbelieving of this sudden change of fortune. It was too much to take in at once. In a matter of moments, his path had completely altered. 

_Charlotte._ All that separated him from her was a few hours of hard riding. It was almost too good to be true. 

“Alright,” he said slowly, feeling a hopeful smile start to creep across his face. “I’ll go.”

Everyone burst into cheers. Arthur thumped him on the back and Mary embraced him. 

Their jovial mood was broken by a rapid knock at the door. 

“Ugh,” Georgiana groaned. “What now?”

“Sidney!” A voice demanded from the front steps. 

The entire group winced. It was Eliza Campion. 

***

Eliza had been crying. Her eyes were puffy, and her usually perfect updo seemed to be drooping. She sat on the sofa in the parlor, staring numbly into the fire. 

Sidney felt a flash of sympathy for her, followed by a flash of anger. He supposed he didn’t really know how to feel about her right now. 

“Eliza–” He tried to keep the impatience out of his voice, but he was keenly aware of the moments slipping by. 

“I’m sorry, Sidney,” she began to weep. “You must think horribly of me. I never meant for it to go this far!”

Sidney remained silent. 

“I really do care about you! It wasn’t just about the money.”

Sidney sighed. “I wish you had been honest with me. I would have done my best to help you--”

“I know!” Eliza sniffed. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Sidney sat down next to her. “It was never going to work between us, Eliza. We’re both different people from when we were twenty, and we have both been dishonest about why we wanted to marry each other.”

This caused another round of tears. “Yes, you’re a much better person than you were at twenty, and I’m worse,” Eliza said, her tone dejected. 

Sidney took her hand. “We’re still young, Eliza. You have time to be whoever you want to be.”

“You really believe that?” She laughed bitterly. “Nobody will want to marry me after this scandal. And by society’s standards, I’m practically an old spinster.”

“Well, I can’t say I know what it’s like to be a widow,” Sidney said. “But I can tell you that I thought I would never find love again either.” 

“And then you met Charlotte,” Eliza filled in softly. 

They sat in silence for a long moment. It wasn’t quite the comfortable silence of old friends, but it wasn’t hostile either. 

“You’ll find someone, Eliza,” Sidney said, glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece. 2 AM. It would be a close ride to Portsmouth. “In the meantime, er, how bad is it?”

“The money?” Eliza asked. “I have enough to last me another year or two.”

“I have nothing to offer right now, but Tom may yet land on his feet. If there’s ever anything I can do–”

“I don’t want charity, Sidney,” Eliza cut in sharply. It was funny, she had some characteristics in common with Charlotte. 

“Not charity. A job, perhaps. Tom will need somebody here in London to promote Sanditon to the _beau monde._ ”

“I couldn’t have a job!” Eliza gasped, looking scandalized. “It wouldn’t be proper.”

Sidney shrugged. “The offer is there, if you ever need it.”

Eliza kept her chin pointed high, as proud as ever. “I suppose you had better go.”

“What do you mean?” Sidney asked. 

“You’ve been fidgeting and staring at the clock the entire time we’ve been talking. I’m guessing it has something to do with Ms. Heywood?”

Sidney flushed. “She is leaving in the morning for Italy.”

“Go on, then.” Eliza wiped her tears. Without her poised mask and cool demeanor, she suddenly looked very small and young. 

“Take care, Eliza,” he said seriously. 

“I hope...I hope you can think of me fondly one day,” Eliza whispered. 

Sidney bowed and left without a reply. He thought it would probably take him a long time to have any positive association with Eliza and the events of their engagement. 

***

Sidney and Champion flew through the night, but it wasn’t fast enough. 

He held onto a sliver of hope that he would be in time to catch them, but as the sky grew lighter and lighter, he knew the chances were slim. He had only been to Portsmouth a handful of times, and he got turned around on his way to the docks. By the time he finally made it, he was sweating and cursing under his breath.

He leapt off of Champion and grabbed the arm of a man on the docks. 

“Where is the boat bound for Italy?” He demanded. He probably looked half-mad, unshaven and sleep-deprived. 

“The _Queen Anne?_ She’s right out there.”

The man pointed out to sea, where he could see a ship disappearing in the distance. 

He swore, sagging against Champion. It wasn’t the end of the world, of course, but he desperately ached to talk to Charlotte and set things right between them. Preferably before Tom’s creditors came knocking at the family doors and they all wound up in debtor’s prison. 

The man stared at him curiously. “Cheer up, mate. There’s another one bound for Italy tomorrow,” he said. “My cousin sells tickets.”

Sidney paused. It seemed a bit insane for him to follow Charlotte all the way to Italy, but as they had both often pointed out, he and Charlotte had a habit of popping up in each other’s lives in unexpected ways. 

***

_Sardinia._

Sidney thought about it a lot on his journey. Why had Lady Susan taken the time to tell him that their first stop was Sardinia? Had she hoped that he would break it off with Eliza and come after Charlotte?

The voyage from Portsmouth to France had been relatively quick, but he had to endure days of riding through France on a stagecoach. It was hot and bumpy and uncomfortable. He felt sick with nerves one moment and overjoyed the next. As he watched out the window, the landscape gradually changed from farms to rolling hills to mountains. 

At Marseille, he boarded a ship for Sardinia. He wondered how Charlotte’s journey had been. He imagined her with her face pressed against the window, hungrily drinking in the sights and sounds of France. 

Sidney had visited France before, but he had never seen the Mediterranean. This was Charlotte’s ocean, he realized. The water was blue as the sky, balmy, curious, and playful. The ship seemed to cut through the water effortlessly and the beaches in the distance sparkled with clean, white sand.

It wasn’t difficult to locate Lady Susan and Charlotte’s lodgings. He simply went to the most expensive hotel on the island. 

When he asked after them, however, the clerk said that they had gone out for the day. 

Dejected, Sidney stepped back out into the blinding sun. He could only hope that they hadn’t left for the next destination on their trip, because he didn’t know the rest of their itinerary. 

It was too hot to stand still in the sun, so he began walking along a shady path, anxiously rehearsing his speech to Charlotte in his head. 

***

“And I promise to love you and cherish you my entire life,” Sidney said emphatically, pacing back and forth beneath an oak tree. Several passersby had given him strange looks, but he disregarded everyone’s scrutiny.

“...if you can forgive me for what I’ve put you through these past months, of course,” he continued. He pivoted sharply and almost ran into a woman. 

“Excuse me–”

“Pardon–”

“...Mr. Parker?” 

“Lady Susan?”

She coolly assessed him from beneath her parasol. 

“So, you came after all.”

He nodded, suddenly feeling nauseous with nerves. “I’ve broken my engagement with Eliza Campion.”

“You found the money your brother needs, then?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I believe my whole family might end up in the debtors’ prison, unless Tom creates a miracle and finds £35,000.”

“And yet you have come to see Charlotte?”

“She is far more important than the money. I understand if she doesn’t want to marry me, with my past engagement and my brother’s financial ruin. But I had to come anyway.”

Lady Susan still appeared to be judging him, but her face had softened slightly. 

“Well, then. You’ll find her just ahead, on the beach.” 

“Thank you, Lady Susan,” Sidney said fervently, offering a bow and immediately turning towards the beach. 

“Oh, and Mr. Parker?” 

He turned back to face Lady Susan. Her expression was stern.

“I will be standing here in the shade, but do not forget that I can see the beach from here. Ms. Heywood has a reputation to protect.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sidney said, feeling rather like a schoolboy as he hurried up the path. 

***

In her white dress and straw hat, Charlotte looked like a graceful seabird. She had waded into the water and appeared to be in a world of her own. She held up the hem of her skirt with one hand, and she was bending over and looking for seashells. He could hear her humming quietly to herself.

He fidgeted nervously with the hem of his sleeve as he drew closer. He was even more nervous than he’d been the first time he’d tried to propose to her, and he wasn’t sure how that was even possible.

He stopped a few meters away from her and cleared his throat.

Charlotte looked up, her eyes going wide.

“Mr. Parker?” She asked, incredulous.

“Yes,” he said inanely.

“Are you—are you here for your honeymoon?” She asked with a forced smile.

“No,” he said, taking a step closer to her.

“Oh,” she said, sounding slightly breathless. “This isn’t one of those odd occasions where we happen to be in the same place at the same time, is it?”

“No,” Sidney replied, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. “I came here very deliberately.”

“But your wedding—”

“I called it off.” Sidney took another small step towards her, unable to keep his gaze from drifting down to her mouth. 

“You–what?”

“Eliza is bankrupt. There was no point in marrying her.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Charlotte said, her cheeks flushed. 

“You are?” Sidney asked.

“Well—I’m sorry for Mrs. Campion. That sounds dreadful for her.”

“You are very kind, Charlotte.”

Charlotte laughed, placing a hand on her hip. “I’m afraid my thoughts towards Mrs. Campion have not been very kind this past year.”

“It was more my fault than her fault,” Sidney shook his head. “I have hurt many people. I never should have gotten engaged to her. It was never the right answer.”

“You wanted to protect those closest to you,” Charlotte nodded understandingly.

“And yet, I hurt the most important person to me in the entire world,” he said gently.

Only one more step separated the two of them.

“Sidney,” Charlotte whispered. Her eyes glimmered with tears.

“Charlotte,” he said, unable to bear her pain. “I am sorry for failing you. I promise that I will do my utmost to make it up to you—”

“Yes,” Charlotte declared suddenly, seeming to have made up her mind about something.

“Yes, what?” Sidney asked.

“Yes, I will marry you,” Charlotte grinned.

Sidney stared at her, shocked. “I didn’t even ask yet. I was still in the groveling and pleading part of my speech.”

“Well, then, I’m asking you. Quickly, before another fire starts somewhere and interrupts our second proposal.” And then, unexpectedly, Charlotte was laughing and taking his hands in hers.

“Sidney Parker,” she said, looking equally torn between giggling and crying. “Will you marry me?”

This was not how he had imagined this going at all.

“I might end up in the debtors’ prison back in England,” he tried to explain. “I’m sure I’ve signed some of Tom’s contracts—”

“Then we shall be the happiest people in any debtors’ prison in all of England,” Charlotte declared.

And suddenly, she pulled him further into the water. Her small hand cupped his jaw, and then she was kissing him, and he was twirling her around in the blue Mediterranean water, and they were both wet and crying, but neither of them cared.

***

“Are you sure, Sidney?” Charlotte asked, biting her lower lip. It was the next day, and she and Susan were preparing to leave for the mainland of Italy. “I’m sure Lady Susan would understand if I wanted to return early from the trip.”

“Nonsense,” Sidney said. “You enjoy this summer. You will probably be returning to quite a mess in England.”

“I will miss you,” Charlotte said shyly. She seemed a bit nervous about expressing her affection for him, as though she couldn’t believe that they were really engaged. After his first attempt to propose to her last summer, he couldn’t blame her. Internally, he vowed that he would do everything in his power to make certain she never doubted his affection for her again.

“I will think of you every waking moment,” Sidney promised, pulling her closer.

They were immediately interrupted by Lady Susan calling for Charlotte. The woman seemed to have an uncanny ability to know when they were about to kiss.

Charlotte laughed at his disappointed expression. “Give my love to everyone back home,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Oh, and I almost forgot—Lady Susan wanted me to give you this note.”

She pressed an envelope into his hand. Then she was gone, leaving Sidney feeling more whole than he could ever remember before.

***

He was in such a fog of happiness that he forgot about Lady Susan’s note until his passage back across the English Channel. As he admired the gray, choppy waves of his home country, he pulled the note out of his pocket, smoothing out the envelope and tearing it open.

_Mr. Parker,_ the elegant handwriting read.

_I am writing to confirm my interest in investing_ _£35,000 in the Sanditon Resort._

_Consider it a wedding gift._

He laughed so long and hard with relief and joy that the other passengers stared at him as though he were mad.

****

The late Lady Denham’s estate had a lovely stone cottage on its grounds, set against rocky cliffs and a stunning view of the ocean. 

Lord and Lady Babington gifted it to Sidney and Charlotte as a wedding present. Although Sidney protested and insisted it was too much, Charlotte was so in love with the house that Sidney doubted he’d ever convince her to move out of it. 

That was fine with him. They were a twenty-minute walk from town and Sanditon, and just fifteen minutes away from Tom and Mary. Charlotte’s family would only be about an hour’s ride away in Willingden.

When Babington brought Sidney and Charlotte to see the place for the first time, a week before their wedding, Charlotte had been so full of joy that Babington quietly insisted to Sidney that he would not accept any payment for the place. Together, they watched Charlotte scurry around, planning a garden, mapping out a library with a view of the sea, and practically dancing instead of walking. 

“There are two bedrooms upstairs,” Babington told him. “And a spacious nursery.” He winked at Sidney, who abruptly felt like his heart might split his chest in two.

“How’s young Colin?” Sidney asked, clearing his throat so that his voice wouldn’t sound silly with happiness. 

“Strong and opinionated, like his mother,” Babington smiled. “He’ll be three months old next week.”

“He’s a handsome little lad,” Sidney agreed. 

“Oh, Sidney!” Charlotte exclaimed, interrupting them. She was peering out the kitchen window. “Look, we have access to a little cove!”

Sidney and Babington joined her at the window. Sure enough, they could make out a faint footpath that wound from the cliffs down to the beach below. 

“That’s the first I’ve noticed the cove,” Babington remarked. “It belongs to you two, now,” he declared, clapping Sidney on the shoulder. “Parker Cove, we’ll call it.”

***

They married in early September. It was a simple affair, but with there were many guests in attendance. Most of Sanditon knew and adored Charlotte, and she had a large family. After the ceremony, most of the town gathered at Trafalgar House to celebrate. 

It was the opposite of the wedding Eliza had been planning. Nobody wore the latest fashions. The pastor gave a strange homily about lilies of the field, it rained when they left the church, and the food at the luncheon afterwards only lasted an hour before it was devoured. 

Drinks and desserts and merriment flowed freely, however, and it was already growing dark by the time the last of the guests bid them farewell. Sidney took Charlotte’s hand and escorted her to the carriage he had rented for the day. They rode to their cottage in peaceful, reflective silence. In the back of the carriage, Charlotte leaned her head against his shoulder and laced her fingers through his. Outside, the sun crept down the horizon, flushing the sky with pinks and oranges. They had to wake up early to help Tom and Mr. Stringer with the beginning of the rebuild, but they had the night to themselves. 

Sidney closed his eyes, memorizing the moment. He never wanted to forget that this was real; that he and Charlotte had actually made it to this point. 

When they arrived at their cottage, Sidney thanked the carriage driver and paid him generously for his services that day. To his surprise, Charlotte disappeared into the house. 

“Charlotte?” He called curiously, stepping through the front door. Somebody, probably Tom and Mary, had stocked their kitchen with food and wine for the next few days. They still had a lot of work to do on the house, but the bouquet of flowers on the kitchen table and Charlotte’s footsteps above helped it feel like more home. 

“Be down in a minute!” Charlotte called from upstairs.

To his surprise, she appeared a few moments later, dressed in a much simpler everyday dress. 

“Come on,” she said eagerly. “Let’s go down to the cove!”

Sidney had been daydreaming about carrying Charlotte over the threshold and helping her remove her wedding dress, but he supposed that he shouldn’t be surprised that his headstrong wife had a different plan in mind for their first evening as a married couple. 

“Lead the way, Mrs. Parker,” he said. 

They clambered down to the beach, joking and laughing like children. The second Sidney’s feet hit the sand, Charlotte pulled him into a deep kiss. The wind tangled her hair so that it brushed against his neck, and her lips were warm and sweet.

“Come on,” Charlotte said, when they broke apart. To Sidney’s amazement, she began to unbutton her dress. 

“What are you doing?” He gaped, his voice rough. He stared as she tugged her dress over her head and set to work at unlacing her stays. 

Charlotte laughed. “We’re married now, Mr. Parker. So you don’t have to go swimming naked in coves alone anymore.”

As her pale, perfect skin was revealed, he couldn’t seem to work his buttons properly. 

“Here, let me help you,” Charlotte said, gazing up at him through her lashes. 

He drank in the sight of her as she made quick work of his shirt buttons. “Last one in the water has to help Tom organize his papers!” She called, tearing off down the beach. He wrestled out of his pants and sprinted after her, scooping her up in his arms at the water’s edge and carrying her into the warm surf. 

Above them, the moon glowed serenely. The reflection of the stars sparkled in the slow, easy waves as Sidney held Charlotte close, reveling in the sound of her laughter and the feel of her skin. 

The ocean was calm that night. 

  
  
  



End file.
